Layton Inlove
by The Phantomess of the Opera
Summary: Some sort of slightly corny Layton romance as the title suggest. Layton x OC. General/K until chapter 10, M for chapter 11 until finish.
1. Chapter 1

**Layton Inlove****Chapter 1**

* * *

_Professor Layton, world famous archeologist and puzzle enthusiast. He was all, smart and hansome, but above all he was a gentleman. Everyone who I'd ever met who'd heard about or met hm themselves had always spoken so highly of him. His charm, his intellegence, his emaculate manners. He was the guy that women dreamt of having. Even the men admired him, even if under a mask of jealousy._

_The very thought of such a man existing made me shiver with delight and curiosity. The stories I'd heard made me curious, his pictures made me curious, the description of him made me curious. Curious about what you ask? Curious as to whether he truely was what everyone claimed him to be, or was it all just a facade. But when everyone talks so highly and fondly of him, it would be hard to imagine otherwise. But the only way to find out would be to meet him, get to know him. And I didn't ever think I would get that chance..._

* * *

I ran towards the bus as it pulled up at the stop. I was half a street away and I knew I'd never make it. But I pushed on, trying to move even fast, but it was hard since my ankle was still slightly swollen and sore from where I'd torn the muscle not so long ago. But I couldn't afford to miss this bus, it was the last one of the evening and it was a 1-2 hour trip to get back home.

I began to panic as the bus driver caught a glimpse of me running. It seems that bus drivers hate people running towards them. As soon as they see you, the close the doors instantly and floor it off to the next stop. And today was no different. I was almost there when the bus pulled out and sped off, disregarding any and every road rule. It ticked me off big time.

Watching the bus speeding off down the road, I slowed myself. Suddenly the world slipped from under me. I'd tripped on a marble some school kid had left lieing around and I was falling backwards. I braced myself a quickly as I could for impact when I realised I wasn't falling anymore. I opened my eyes slowly to see a familiar face.

"Are you alright, miss?"

* * *

Sorry, short first chapter, just an intro before I get started and i thought it was an oportune moment to stop it :)


	2. Chapter 2

Well, since there was little response, may as well post the next chapter. First chapter was rather boring. And I apologise in advance for this chapter and any other chapter to proceed this if Layton is out of character. It was a sorta half intention. You'll find out later.

omfg, i totali forgot a critical part haha!! EDITTED!! (i added the intro of her name .)

**

* * *

****Chapter 2**

I opened my eyes, realising I was no longer falling but being suspended probably only inches away from the pavement. My eyes came into focus and fell upon the face of my 'saviour'.

"Are you alright, miss?"

At first I didn't respond, in too much of a dazed to register what was said. I didn't know whether it was real or some trick of the mind due to the impact of my head against the ground, but the firm arms around me seemed to tell me it was definitely real. It was on that note that I finally said something - well, more whispered it as my mouth was too dry to same anything more audible than a whisper. "Thank you."

The man above me smiled and lifted me back onto my feet, keeping his hands on my arms to help balance me. I whinced as I tried to shift the weight of my body evenly on both legs, but it seemed that I'd twisted my already damaged ankle.

"Are you alright, miss?" The man repeated once he was satisified that I was stable.

I looked up at him, as he was a good head or so taller than I, and froze. The face I'd seen after I was caught was no trick of the mind or light. It was real. I nodded slowly and shyly.

He smiled warmly at me. "Good." He said cheerfully. He then took my hand. "Oh, how rude of me. My name is Professor Hershel-"

"Layton..." I let out, still half dazed. Then suddenly I brought my hands to my mouth. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean to interrupt you, sir..."

My apology only amused him further. "It's quite alright." He assured me. One of his hands was on my shoulder still, I hadn't noticed until just then. "May I ask, what had you in such a hurry, miss?" He kept a polite distance from me, despite his hand still on my shoulder.

"Oh... I was running for the bus. It's the last of the night and I live on the other side of town." I replied, suddenly remembering that once again (this week) I'd missed that stupid bus. Why did it seem to find sport in making sure it sped away from me if I ran towards it? I gasped, again bringing my hands to my mouth. "I'm so sorry! I didn't even introduce myself!"

He chuckled softly.

"A-Azalia." I told him. "I'm Azalia."

"Well, Azalia, that's quite a predicament you're in, isn't it?" He said.

"It wouldn't be the first time. Though usually a work mate is still at the office who I can catch a lift with or something, but unfortunately all the workers around my area either moved or have already left." I eyed my feet in embarrasement. "Not to mention the severe lack of taxis around this area. I should really order a taxi instead, but they are so expensive and-"

"I will take you home." He said, cutting me off in a somewhat polite manner, as seemed to be Professor Layton's way. "My car is nearby."

"I-I-I..." I stuttered, shocked by the Professors immediate offer to assist me. "That would be lovely, but you see, I live about a 2 hour drive from here. And at this time of night, I'm afraid it would only be made worse by traffic. It's ok, I'll get home."

He cocked his brow at me suspiciously. "And how do you propose to do that? No bus, no car, no taxi. It's getting dark and I can see the clouds darkening." Again there was that sound of amusement in his voice. It made me rather nervous actually.

I sighed. "I guess you're right. But it's so far away." I pleaded.

A smile graced his lips and it seemed he had another idea. "Well, perhaps you would like to spend the night at my place."

I felt my cheeks flush with the thought. "I-I," The stuttering again, "I don't know. I don't want to be a bother. I'm a stranger, you're a stranger."

"You have a good point. There isn't really anything I can say that would instantly prove my credibility. But I don't believe you could do much harm to me, especially not with that injured ankle of yours. Atleast let me tend to that." His eyes were so sincere.

I thought about it for a moment. I trusted him already, it wasn't him that was the issue, but rather the trouble I'd be causing him. And after all said and done, I'd still need to get home after somehow, whether it be that night or the following day. But after leveling out my options I reluctantly came to the only logical conclusion. "I would really appreciate that."

His smile broadened. "Should we be off then?" He looked down at my ankle. "Are you able to walk?"

I too looked down at my ankle. It was covered up by my pants, but I could feel how swollen it was becoming. "I don't know." I tried to take a step and almost fell over, my ankle unable to support my weight - I could barely move my foot. "I don't think so. I could hop?" I started hopping on the spot.

The Professor let out a little chuckle. "You're a very good hopper."

I felt my cheeks flushing once again. "Thank you." I said softly. I opened my mouth to say something else, which is now lost to me, when small droplets of rain began to fall from the sky. "Rain..." I muttered, looking up at the sky.

"Come on." Came Professor Layton's voice and he put an arm around my waist, the other hand holding one of mine.

It was a little awkward, but I enjoyed it very much. Who would've known the Professor had such a gentle touch. I guess it comes with being a gentleman (no pun intended). But in no time it was pooring down on us and the Professor scooped me up and dashed towards his car. Once there he placed me inside gently, did my seatbelt for me. He then removed his jacket and placed it over me to keep me warm.

"Oh, you don't have to..." I started.

"Don't be silly, it's cold, you're wet." He winked at me and shut the door before circling to the driver's side and got into the car too.

As he started the car I suddenly felt how fatigued I was from the long day of work. I remember the car pulling out and driving at a steady pace down the street. The street lights were flickering on, causing the rain on the windows to sparkle like glitter or fairylights. It was somewhat romantic actually. Then I saw the Professor glance at me and back onto the road before I closed my eyes and drifted off. The last thought in my mind was of Professor Layton, how it felt so safe to be in his arms.

* * *

Let me know what you thought. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Woot, people liked my story so far hehe! Thanks for reading guys.

and i forgot to mention that, while i dont kno when the game was set, for the sake of the story and my lack of writing skills, its set in a modern sorta time, like 90s-2000s?? something more recent at any rate.  
Also I've added the introduction of the main characters name in the previous chapter

Sorry, i've been so busy so iv written out my chapters in a book to get an idea of what im gonna do for each chapter and I dnt really look at it when im type so i forget what i have and havent done. really sorry!!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Not that I remember much other than random bits and pieces from just before I fell asleep, the trip only look about half an hour. Longer than I expected, but since it was a Friday evening and everyone was rushing to get home after a long day of work, what else could you hope for really? Though I have to say, I had the strangest dream while I dozed. I don't remember what it was, but I remember Professor Layton was there... But it left me when I heard the Professor trying to wake me without touching me. What a gentleman!

"Azalia, we're here." He said in that gentle sweet tone of his.

When I opened my eyes I realised my head had fallen to the side (usually it maintained whatever position it was in when I fell asleep, but I guess not this time) and was tilted down slightlty. I lifted my head dopily to have my eyes meet with his.

"Wait here and I'll take you inside." He told me as he exited the car and circled back around to my side. He opened the door, undid my seat belt and put his arms around me. "Ready?" He asked just before lifting me with such ease.

I wrapped my arms around his neck for extra security. I was still half asleep and not quite aware yet of what was happening. It wasn't until I was placed onto a very soft bed that I realised what was happening and I felt my cheeks burn. I had just been carried by Professor Layton from the car into his house. Furthermore I'd wrapped my arms around him and rested my head against his shoulder and neck. It was so comfortable it didn't even register.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked me (to which I was so tempted to say 'not any more') as he straightened me out on the bed as best he could before heading back out the door. "Now, something for your ankle. I'll only be a moment." And he wasn't lying. No sooner had he left he was back in with cream for injured muscles, some ice in a plastic bag and a bandage.

"Oh, you dont have to..." I started, pushing myself up on my elbows. But it was so use, he was already kneeling beside me.

"If I don't do something it will only get worse." He replied. "May I?"

Without much of a choice I agree with a nod of my nod. Not much else I could do with the Professor staring at me like that. His dark, mysterious eyes. I was suddenly brought back to reality when I felt a jabbing pain in my ankle, to which I let out a muffled cry.

"Sorry." The Professor said without moving his hand. "I just want to check it's not a fracture."

"You're a doctor too then, Professor?" I asked him, looking at how he was feeling my injured ankle.

He smiled, still focusing on the ankle. "Well, no, but as I used to travel alot it became a necessity to learnt how to manage such injuries, serious or minor. Yours, thankfully, seems only to be a sprain, though it could have had me fooled with how swollen it is."

"I tore it a few weeks ago that I haven't fully recovered from. I guess this wont make it any better..." I sighed, watching him apply the cream and wrapped the bandage and ice around my ankle. "Professor?"

"Mm? Please, call me Hershel." He replied, standing up from the bedside and sat on the chair next to the bed. "I don't think there's a need for such formalities."

"Hershel, then. 'Used to travel' you said. You don't anymore?" I continued, quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking."

He seemed to hesitate, trying to find an answer to give and his face seemed to convey some sort of pain. "Well..." But I must have looked rather upset with myself as he smiled again, "Well, my work no longer requires me to travel as much. Even so, I thought it was about time to settle down a little. As much as I do enjoy it, there always comes a time when you just need to relax, and that time has come for me."

"I see." Was all I said in reply. After that there was a somewhat awkward silence.

"At any rate, your ankle should be ok, but you'll need to see a doctor, as I'm sure you're aware." He finally said, breaking the awkward silence I'd obviously caused.

"Of course." I said. "And..." I continued, trying to not stutter, but with him now waiting so expectantly for me to fnish the sentence it was rather difficult. "Thank you. Thank you for all your help tonight. You've done so much, how can I make it up to you?"

He chuckled softly. "Nonsense, afterall, it is the duty of a gentleman to put a lady's needs first." He tipped his hat to me, to which I giggled. "By the way, have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you for asking." I replied. "I usually eat before I catch the bus because it's a long journey home. But don't let me stop you from having dinner..."

"Oh, no, I've eaten too. I was actually coming back from dinner with a friend when I caught you." Then his eyes widened slightly. "Oh goodness, excuse my manners. Your clothes are still wet, I almost forgot.!" He exclaimed.

I, too, had forgotten about the rain.

He stood up hurrying out the door. "I'm afraid I don't have much in the line of women's clothing, but I'll get a towel and see what I have."

Instead of trying to stop him I just laid back down on the bed, amazed at how soft the pillows were, and waited for him to return. There was really no point in trying to stop him. He soon returned with a towel which he handed to me and allowed me to dry my hair and any other parts of my that were wet. It was mostly dry, but the dash in from the car got a few spots wet. When I was done I looked up at the Professor to find him watching me... Not looking, watching. I brushed it off at the time, but looking back on it... "What about you? You need to dry yourself too."

He was amused at my concern. "I'll deal with myself once your all done. Now, clothes... I'm afraid the only clothes I have are my own..." He said making for the door then paused. "Actually..." He seemed quite hesitant and almost pained as he turned back to one of the cupboard in the room.

I didn't actually take a proper look at the room until that point. The walls were a light pink, the bed was a queen sized bed with feminine bed covers and a nice curtain ontop. The dresser, cupboards and wardrobe were all for a girl. "I hope I'm not in anyone's room!" I suddenly blurted out, realising this wasn't his room, nor just a guest room. It was actually someone's room.

He looked at me and spoke softly, almost as if in defeat. "No, it was my... daughter's room. She's moved out now, though. She left half of her belongings behind though, assuring me she didn't need them anymore."

"Daughter?" I don't know why I continued to push this because it was clearly hurting the Professor. But I guess I was more surprised because I didn't think he had any children. I didn't even think he was married.

He went to the cupboard, opening it slowly. "Yes, my daughter." He pulled out a pair of pink and purple pyjamas. He handed them to me and advised me to get some rest before he left the room quietly.

After an hour I reluctantly decided to put them on. Needless to say I didn't get my sleep that night, worrying too much about how the Professor had acted when I caused him to think about his daughter. I spent most of the night wondering what had happened between them to make him so... depressed? And how'd he be in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I haven't updated sooner. Just really caught up in work and my computer bumming out on me and all. Having to wait until I'm and university to post these things. Most irritating indeed

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The following morning the Professor and I didn't talk much, except when arguing whether I was taking the bus home or if he was going to drive me. Of course, the Professor being the Professor, I was driven home- "It wouldn't do to have you taking the bus and walking with your ankle the way it is." I'd sorely wished he hadn't though because the trip was so long and tense, a silence between us, neither daring to talk. Not with what had happened the previous night.

But finally we arrived at my house and we sat in the car for a few minutes.

"Azalia, I apologise for my rudeness last night and this morning. It was entirely inappropriate." He finally said, looking at me with such a shameful look which I'd see often in our meetings to come.

I turned my head sharply and began on a tangent about how it was ok and no hard feelings and such. "Honestly... I hit the wrong note, I shouldn't have pushed it. I should really be the one apologising..." I waited for him to cheer up, but he didn't. "Professor Layton... I'm really sorry."

He weakly smiled. "I guess we should both be aplogising then when you put it like that." I knew he didn't mean it, though. He was still feeling guilty about his behaviour. Did he truely see no fault in how I'd pushed the topic of his daughter last night? "In any case, we'd best get you inside."

Agreeing, I hopped out of the car, waiting for him to follow and we made our way to the front door, of course I was limping.

"Are you alright? You really seem to be having trouble with that foot." He asked, attempting to support me or something, but failling, me being as stuborn as I was.

"No, no, I'm alright." I insisted. Upon reaching the door I turned to the Professor. "Would you like to stay for some tea?" I asked, spur of the moment. "I wouldn't want to having to make another 2 hour trip without a rest atleast. Please." I opened the door and gestured for him to enter.

He hestitated. "I really should be going."

"Are you sure?" I asked, at the risk of sounding desperate - which I was. I was really hoping he'd stay. And not only because he really needed the rest.

He sighed in defeat, a smile crossing his face. "Alright, just for a little while." He finally answered, encouraging me to enter first.

I couldn't prevent the joyful giggle from passing my lips as I stepped inside and waited for the Professor to come in before I shut the door. "This way." I said gleefully as I lead him to the kitchen. "Oh, and I apologise for the mass amount of boxes. I've been here a few months, but I've been working so much that I haven't had much time to unpack." I shyly looked up at him as we entered the small kitchen. "And sorry for my small kitchen."

He looked around politely before saying anything. "Actually, I was going to comment on how cosy and organised your house was. Your boxes are neatly stacked, and the kitchen is conviently arranged for two people. I think you've done a marvellous job!"

I was sure if he was serious or just being polite. "Thanks." I mumbled nevertheless. "Please, please, have a seat."

He chuckled at how excited I must have seemed, despite our earlier awkwardness. "You're a very lively young woman."

"Well, it's not everyday you have the famous archeologist, Professor Layton, save you. Not to mention spend the night at his house and have him drive you 2 hours back home." I told him. No point hiding my excitement, I'm sure he got it from so many people. "Green or black tea?" I asked him.

"Black please." He stood up and came to where I was, reaching up awkwardly to get the tea down from the cupboard.

"Allow me." He said, reaching up with ease to get the tea.

I almost gasped at how close he was to me when he grabbed the tea. I stepped back a little, trying to remove myself from his personal space and trying to remove him from mine. "Thank you." I looked away when turned back to me with the tea, I don't know why. Atleast, I didn't at the time.

He just looked at me in a puzzled way, but when I looked back up at him he just smiled, obviously dimissing what it could have meant. "You're welcome." He said, stepping back to give me space.

I put the kettle on and took out two cups. I hadn't used them since I was back home, so I rinsed them out and dried them carefully. I felt the Professor's eyes on my back the whole time. Why did it make me so nervous? I almost dropped one of the cups. Placing it down I turned to the Professor who was only a a step behind me. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

"Alright." He said softly as I headed out the door and turn right.

Once I got into the bathroom I shut the door quickly and locked it, leaning on it for that extra measure. My breathing was rapid, uncontrollable, my heart pounding in my chest. I let myself slide to the floor as I questioned myself about what was happening. _'What's wrong?'_ I asked myself over and over, with no answer. _'For heaven sake! You've locked yourself in the bathroom with a guest, the Professor no less, waiting for you to return. GET UP!' _And with that I shakily stood myself up, moving to the sink to wash my face. I dried my face off and checked in the mirror I wasn't looking too nervous or anything, then exited the bathroom, dreading what would happen when I re-entered the kitchen.

"Is everything alright?" Asked the ever so caring Professor as I approached the bench where the kettle and cups were. "I made the tea while you were in the bathroom, I hope that's alright." He gestured to the cups that were on the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I gasped. "I didn't think I'd spent that long in the bathroom." I was getting completely flustered. Feeling completely at a loss as to what to do I unknowing let the Professor lead me to a chair at the table.

"It's quite alright. It's not as commonly known as my other hobbies are, but I quite enjoy making tea." He smiled, offering me a cup. "I hope you like it."

I don't know what he could've used for the tea and I only had tea leaves and sugar, but it tasted absolutely wonderful! It was perfect. "Wow!" I let out in amazement. "This- this tea! I can't think of a word to describe it!" It was black tea, no milk, a little sugar, and something else. Cinamon?

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. I saw the cinamon and I had to add it. I hope that's ok, though it is too late to do anything about it." He told me when I put the cup back down.

"No, no! It's fine!" I reassured him. Not like I was using anything in that spice rack anyway. "I wasn't using it for anything better. Besides, the perfection of this tea far out ways anything that might have been of importance in relation to the cinamon."

"I should have asked first in any case." He reinforced, but smile once again graced his lips as I comically brushed it off with a wave of my hand (well, more than just a wave). "But I'm glad you're enjoying the tea."

The warm smile the Professor had made it worth while making an idiot out of myself. I sighed inaudibly, though I'm sure it was quite visible to the Professor. I then realised what these nervous and warm feelings were. I'd fallen for him. I almost panicked, but repeatedly told myself to remain calm and controlled, atleast until the man was gone.

* * *

The clock struck 3 and the Professor took his leave.

"Thank you very much for the tea." He said as I showed him to the door.

"No, thank you! It was absolutely delightful. Undoubtly I'll be spend much of my free time trying to reproduce it, though I've never been good at tea making." I said, still filled with the warmth and excitement from the tea.

He chuckled. "I'd be more than happy to teach you." He then pulled out a pen and note pad from an inside pocket in the jacket and wrote something down. He then wripped out a piece of paper before replacing the pen and note pad and handed it to me. "Here's my number. Feel free to call if you need anything else, or if you'd like to have tea again. Please don't hesitate, I'm more than happy to assist in whatever way needed."

I choked back my urge to say something inappropriate and continued with something more suitable. "Thank you." I reached for the piece of paper and shivered when I accidentally touched the Professor's hand. I quickly withdrew my hand and looked up shyly. "I'll be sure to call you then, if that's the case." Of course I knew I wouldn't, being too shy and all. "Good bye, and thank you for you help last night! I don't know what I would've done otherwise!"

He smiled and extended a hand to me.

Without thinking I extended mine to grasped his but was taken by surprise when he instead gripped it lightly and lifted it to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss on it. "No need to thank me." And with that he was off down my front path, into his car and off.

I stood a while longer in the doorway just staring at my hand. I could still feel his lips against it.

_'I guess I'll have to make sure I call now...'_


	5. Chapter 5

Man, this trying to write proper chapters thing is really hard. I wish I was as good at it as others. Man, some people on here have such talent, they should be book writing, not fic writing!! At any rate....

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The weeks passed by since that fateful day and I'd not gathered to confidence to give the man a call, as much as I wanted to see him, even hear him again. Rather, I'd spent much of that time trying not to think about him, trying to forget him as the chances of seeing him again would actually be quite slim. Even so, those times I did allow myself to think about him for more than a minute I found I was thinking about how soothing his voice was, or how soft his touch was, or how amazing he was in general. Often I'd slapped myself, literally, too. It was just a crush, an infatuation! That was why I wouldn't call on him again.

However, I would soon find out I wouldn't need to call him often at all.

* * *

"5:35 already?? SHIT!!" I exclaimed, grabbing my bag, my hair tie and keys and ran out the door. I was late for being early for the bus, again! I never dared not be early for the bus, not with my track record of missed buses. "Come on, please don't be there yet!" I muttered between my breaths. I was relieved to find that the bus was not yet there. Infact, it arrived as I came to a stop infront of the bus sign. Catching that morning bus was the key to a calm day.

I was relieved to find the trip didn't take long at all. There was a certain lack of customers that day which meant less frequent stopping, and the traffic around 6-7 wasn't that heavy at all. Just one of those days. As a result, the wait between buses was minimalised and the trip only took me the 2 hours it should really be taking, instead of the 2.5 it usually took. Early for the first time since starting work in England.

Seeing as I had an extra half hour to waste, I decided to make use of it and get some breakfast. There was always that bakery I got my croissants from in the afternoons/evenings, one for breakfast would be lovely for a change. But upon reaching the small store I decided against it. The queue was a mile long. Surely the food there was hardly worth the long wait in line. However, people obviously thought otherwise and patiently waited at the back of the rediculously long queue.

"Well, I guess that idea's gone..." I grumbled, looking elsewhere for something to eat when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard an all too familiar voice say my name.

"Azalia."

I turned around to come face to face with the Professor. "P-Professor." I stuttered. "Goodmorning."

"Goodmorning to you too." He cheerfully said. "What ever are you doing here at such an early hour?" He asked me.

"I have work." I replied softly, leading us out of the middle of the foot path. "I work at the hospital near here. You?"

"I do casual lecturing at the college down the road." He said, following. "So you work at the hospital?" He repeated, looking at my uniform. "Ah yes, it didn't even register when we last met. A nurse."

I nodded shyly. "Registered Nurse."

The smile on his face broadened. "What a marvellous profession! I truely admire you for it."

"Thank you." Oh gosh, I was starting to become flustered. I needed to get away, and that was obviously coming through in my expression and/or movements.

"I'm sorry, am I keeping you?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

I shook my head imediately. "No... I'm actually half an hour early, not late for once!" I was rather proud of myself. "I was just looking for somewhere to get breakfast, actually, but I guess I'll have to pass on it today. I didn't realise how crowded it got at this time as usually I'm dashing up to the hospital. No time to look around, you know."

The Professor shift the plastic bag he was holding to the other hand. I hadn't noticed he was carrying it before. Truly observant I am. "Take this." He said, offering me the bag. "It's only a croissant, but it's better than nothing. I'm sure you need it more than I do anyway." He smiled, taking my hand and placing the handle in it before closing my hands around it with both of his. How'd he know it was what I wanted?

"But I-I," I began, "It's your breakfast..."

He just smiled. "Take it. I'm sure you'll be needing it more than I will. Now, I must be off. I shall talk to you again later. Have a nice day." And he turned to leave.

I turned to leave to, but from the corner of my eye I saw the Professor stop and turn back to me. "Oh, Azalia, by the way." He closed the distance swiftly. "I was wondering if you were interested in tea this Sunday afternoon." He asked. "At my house."

I thought for only a moment before giving him an answer. "I'd love to."

"Good, what time would suit you best?" He asked, waiting patiently for me to reply.

"Um... Afternoon?" I joked, being rewarded with an amused smile from the Professor. "How about 3 30? 4 o'clock perhaps?"

"4 o'clock it is." He repeated. "Until then." He tipped his hat with a smile and was off on his way for real this time.

I, on the other hand, just stood there. He'd just given me the croissant I was craving, and had invited me to tea on Sunday. I was snapped out of the daze when someone bumped into me as they passed.

"Watch where you're standing!" The woman growled.

"Sorry." I called after her, not that it really mattered.

So still thinking about the Professor and the croissant (which I didn't end up eating because 1. the Professor gave it to me ^^ and 2. I was running late from the chat and dream day) I headed down the street to the hospital.

_'Guess it saves me calling him... Bugger... What do I do?'_


	6. Chapter 6

Another update ^^

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The days passed by slowly. Ever so slowly. And needless to say I was distracted by the constant thought of meeting the Professor again! I was worried, nervous, anxious, excited... What should I bring? What time should I arrive? What should I wear? I'd need to do some shopping as I couldn't go empty handed. But when? I mean, with my hours and all... And I should really arrive a little bit earlier than the said time (by a few minutes only). And clothes... It was my main concern.

In all honesty, I'd stopped caring about my appearance after my 4th relationship. Guys never looked for that in a girl. What they wanted was one thing, and they could get it from anyone! Ok, perhaps I shouldn't be so dark about this, but at that time that was what I was thinking. So it confused me greatly when I cared about my appearance. Of course I hadn't on previous occasions as I'd not much choice in my presentation at the time. This time however was different.

I was lucky that I was doing a night shift on the Thursday/Friday, which gave me time to do some shopping on the way home. Flours, strawberries, cream, sugar and various other things that one mgiht need for a cake were tossed into the basket (well, not tossed, otherwise the eggs would've broken). By he end of it I'd also ended up buying a small hair clip. Gosh I was an idiot! I couldn't understand why it wouldn't hold all of my hair, I don't see why I bought it anyway. So by about half past 9 I was on my way home, finally.

I was so glad I didn't have to work until Saturday morning, otherwise I would've been so buggered! A chance for a good night sleep tonight, then work, then back home to make the cake. But still had no clue as to what I'd wear. I was also even more lucky that I wouldn't be working for the following two days (I hadn't even thought about it when I'd accepted Layton's invitation).

The next shift came and went slowly, as it always did when anticipating something. I was lucky that a friend was able to give me a lift back home that night since I'd missed the bus. He didn't live near me, infact he was 5 minutes away from the hospital, but he had relatives out near me that he was visiting. He'd dropped me home on more than one occasion, for which I was really greatful!

I was so glad I'd made the cake that night! The next morning I was so tired I didn't get up until about 10. I decided to go digging around for something to wear before I finished decorating the cake, which would prove quite challenging.

* * *

"Why!!" I exclaimed, dropping to my knees, the majority of my clothes in a heap infront of me. "Why is there nothing to wear? Why do I have nothing!!" All that was in that pile were old crinkled blouses, and abundance of black pants mixed with a few pairs of jeans and one plain blue top. "These tops aren't even nice! I'm such a loser."

After spending a few more minutes moping on the floor I managing to drag myself up from the ground and, in defeat, started for the kitchen when my eyes fell upon a box I'd not opened. Admittedly I'd not opened it for a long while. It was my 'never again' box. I'd not touched the stuff since I was back in Australia. Did I dare open it?

Shaking handedly I managed to pull the tape off the box and opened in slowly, cautiously, almost as if the ghosts of past would jump out and haunt me for the rest of my days.

I was silent for a while, just staring into the box. "I remember..." I mumbled. Well, I'm not sure if I really did... I think I did. After that I don't really remember too well what happened. Next thing I new was that I had found a pretty dress, white with pink and green flowers on it, and my face was tear streaked.

Looking in the mirror, I decided that wearing the daggy shirt and old pants I was wearing at that moment was better than putting on that dress. For the time being I'd chucked it onto the kitchen chair and went to decorate the cake. Of course I ended up rushing it realising the time was now 1. I needed to catch the bus in less than an hour. It looked ok, but not as good as I'd hoped. Nowhere near the perfection that Layton was. I sighed and went to the bathroom to clean up.

"What am I going to do...?" I asked my reflection. "Dress, or no dress?"

I had only 15 minutes to decide. I quickly chose to 'try it on' to see. I felt incredibly selfconcious just looking at myself in the mirror though. How on earth would I ever where it out? How on earth did I ever where this at all? I really made me think how much I'd changed, and I wondered if I'd go back to the way I was before.

I didn't have anymore time though, so I left the dress on and quickly found some suitable shoes (I only had 3 pairs, so not a hard decision really). I put the cake into a box, grabbed my things and dashed for the door.

"Hair clip..." I paused momentarily as I passed the corridor table where I'd left the hair piece. I grabbed it after little thought and shoved it into my bag, then ran down the street for the bus stop.

"Please don't be on time, and please don't rain!" I was pretty much pushing it, a minute (apparently) before the bus arrived, and there were heavy clouds gathering - a sign of only one thing...

As the busstop came into sight I noticed the bus was already pulled up and letting some passengers on and off. "WAIT! HOLD THE BUS PLEASE!" I called, hoping the grab tha attention of atleast one of them, but it was no use. The last passenger was on and the doors were closed, and upon seeing me running, the bus floored it down the road.

I came to a heaving stop. How was I going to get there now? I felt so terrible for missing that bus, my dear Professor waiting for me... I was so upset I nearly threw the cake to the ground, but thought better of it. Instead I dropped to my knees for the 2nd time that day and felt the tears beginning to form. Then, as if on queue, the rain starting, soaking my white dress (what a sight!), my hair, just everything! But then it stopped, suddenly. No, it didn't, it just wasn't falling on me anymore. So I looked up and saw an umbrella above me.

"Are you alright, Azalia?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Just thought I'd point out my lack of description of Azalia, just so other can make is easier to put themselves into the character too. Well, that's what I did because I wanteed to be able to change what I imagined her/me as. Though will become harder moving on when her background gets introduced and I do actually start adding a proper description :P**

**My gosh that took a long time and alot of effort to type up. Sorry for the wait and I hoope you enjoy it. Hopefully next time I wont take so long!**

**EDIT: Changed the age gap of Layton after finally deciding to find out how old he really is ahha. he's 37 in the curious - unwound future games.  
**

**

* * *

****Chapter 7**

"You certainly do have a knack, it would seem, for missing buses before rain." The professor teased as he poured us both some of his amazing Layton-brewed tea, of course different this time.

I frowned as I bitterly took the cup from. True, I'd waited so long for another cup of his tea, but right now I wasn't in the mood. There was nothing funny about it! Well, not to me anyway. Of course the Professor didn't see the frown on my face as he was too preoccupied with his tea. "Mmm." Was all I responded with, my grumpiness quite evident.

He turned from the bench, tea cup in hand, and gave me the most apologetic look I'd ever seen as we both took a seat on adjacent sides of the table. "I didn't mean to offend you. After all it is my fault that this occured. And I'm terribly sorry that it happened. I forgot to confirm with you that I'd pick you up. I guess I was-" He broke off, clearing his throat forcefully rather than necessarily, "Excuse me. I guess we were both in a hurry that morning." He tilted his hat to cover his eyes, the sign that he was truely ashamed.

The frown vanished from my face and was replaced with a soft smile. He was so sweet, honestly I was just glad I'd been able to meet with him again. "Professor Layton-"

"Hershel, please, if you don't mind." He corrected me.

"Hershel," I repeated awkwardly. It was strange to say, I was just so used to addressing him as 'Professor Layton', or simply 'Professor'. "The main thing is that we are still having tea together, right? Perhaps not exactly as planned, but nevertheless tea all the same."

The Professor returned my smile with an even warmer one. "Well, I suppose you're right. No point lingering on the past..."

There was a silence between us...

Oh the irony...

"You're a nurse, if I remember correctly." Layton finally said. I was so relieved that the silence was broken.

"Yes." I replied softly. "I am. And you're a Professor of Archeology. A very good one at that if memory serves."

He chuckled, and it made my heart flutter. "You're memory serves you well." He put his cup down after another sip. "Your cake." He suddenly said, standing up. "We nearly forgot your cake." He lifted the box from the back of the bench and opened it. "We shouldn't be letting go to waste, not after you spent so long making it."

I was about to stop him, but he'd already opened it. And how'd he know how long I'd spent making it? I'd forgotten abou the cake, but more out of force than mistake. I was so nervous. The cake probably wasn't as moist as I'd hoped it would be, the decoration wasn't as good as it could've been if I'd not spend so long reminicing. It would never meet the Professor's fine tastes in such things. "Oh right." Was all I could muster up as I reluctantly stood to join him at the bench.

It was actually a relief to see the running had further ruined the decoration, therefore my not-so-handy work would not be seen. "Oh no, the strawberries, the cream. I completely forgot about it when I ran for the bus." But it still didn't excuse the poor presentation of the cake, and I could physically feel my face slide down.

The Professor looked down at me with a look of confusion, I guess you could call it. "I see nothing wrong with it." He said, looking back at the cake. "Besides, as long as it tastes good, what should the presentation matter when it's tea between 2 friends?" He then took the knife I handed to him and cut 2 slices out of the cake and placed them on the plates which I got out for him.

It was slowly becoming routine, with the amount of times I blushed in the presences of the Professor. "Still..."

"Come now," He began after handing me one of the plates, "Don't be so down about it." He put a hand on my shoulder to encourage me back to the table. "You're too hard on yourself."

"That, or you're too soft." I managed to say back as I took a seat, my cheeky side pulling through. But I soon quietened down as I noticed the Professor putting a piece of the cake into his mouth. "The moment on truth."

He smiled at my comment as he put the fork into his mouth. "Delicious!" He exclaimed after swallowing. "Absolutely perfect!"

Was he lieing? Did the Professor lie? I didn't even think he was capable of even a white lie such as this.

But I accepted it for the time being - easier that way. "Thank you." I said barely above a whisper as I lowered my head out of shyness. But as I did so I realised I still had a towel on my head, causing my cheeks to flush once again. "Oh! The towel..." I reached up for the bundle as if doing so would shield it from the eyes of others, almost knocking over my tea in the processes.

He gave me an amused smile as he watched my theatrics. "Allow me." He said standing up and coming behind me. He gently pulled the towel off my head, making sure he kept my hair off my shoulders until he'd put the towel over them, so as to not wet my clean shirt. How thoughtful! "Much better." Layton said, sitting back down. "Your hair will dry faster now too." He smiled again, returning to his cake and half drunk tea.

"Thank you." I said again, reaching back to feel the damp hair on my shoulders. He was right, it would dry much faster this way.

We were silent for a while after that.

"So..." I finally said impulsively. '_Think quick!'_ I told myself. "Tell me more about yourself Professor-"

"Hershel, my dear. There is no need for such formalities, especially since I address you by your first name." He insisted once again.

"Hershel, forgive me. Tell me more about yourself. If you don't mind that is. I've heard so much about you from other people, and I'm sure there are many things that I haven't heard either." I was actually gettting pretty excited and was glad that I'd had that impulsive outburst.

The Professir gave a soft chuckle at my interest and excitement. "Well, what would you like to know?"

I thought about it. "Well, I know you're an archeologist, a Professor no less. And that you're renowned for you incredible mystery solving skills. Oh, and I almost forgot your love for puzzles, and your love for tea, which you yourself told me about." I paused. "Sorry, I'm getting a little over excited. What I was trying to get at was that I know the general facts. So I guess getting to know you as a person and not as some celebrity."

He gave another chuckle. "Celebrity? Far from it. But yes, getting to know eachother would be something to start on since we are on a friendly basis."

There was silence again as I tried to gather the courage to say what was on my mind. "Um, please stop me at anytime or let me know if you begin to feel uncomfortable." I said, just to make sure.

"Of course." His eyes remaining intently on me.

I cleared my throat. "Um, well..." Pause. "I don't know what to ask. I don't even know what I want to know, honestly." A lie! Of course I knew, but it wasn't appropriate at that point.

"Well, how about we start with you then?" The Professor suggested. "If you don't mind, of course, as I'd like to learn more about you too." He waited for my (relieved) agreement before continuing. "What was it that brought you to England? You mentioned that you had only moved here earlier this year." He asked me. "No to mention your obvious Australia accent, which I find most fascinating."

It caught me off guard, both his comment and his question. I blushed at one and inwardly sighed at the other. The latter wasn't something I was willing to answer, not then, nor ever. "I... Just for a change I suppose. I've always wanted to travel, England being one of the many countries I've been dieing to visit! So once I'd saved enough money I was on the plane here. Of course I'd only enough money to go one way, so I'm here until I've enough money to move to Italy." Only half a lie this time. I had always wanted to visit England, even live there, but that wasn't the reason for the move. Though it was an influence.

I could tell, though, that the Professor had picked up on my small lie and that it hurt for me to think about it. So, being the gentleman he was, he accepted what I'd said and moved on. "A little young to be making such a big move by yourself, don't you think?" A smile playing across his handsome face. "Though you seem to be managing well enough."

"Young?" I question. "I may not be as old as you, but nor am I as young as you make out, Professor." I joked, pleased he'd lightened the mood so effectively. I was also hoping to get his age out of him. He had an infinite look about him.

"Oh? And just how old do you think I am exactly?" He asked in reply, brow raised and arms folded.

This was going to be an amusing battle of wits, of which I had none.

I giggled as I said a number. "Middle-aged. 50?"

He frowned at me mockingly. "Do I really look that old? Perhaps to old to be in the company of a teenager then." Oh he was a smart one indeed! It made me so happy to know he was joking with me like this.

"Teenager?" Another giggled escaped my lips. "I assure you I'm no teenager! Long passed that. Perhaps not as far past as you, but far enough." I had such a childish nature about me which I had rarely shown since I was an early teen. "I'm 24 - almost 25!"

It amused him greatly, though, as he too seemed to struggle to contain his laughter. "24 years old? My dear, I'm almost 20 years older than you!"

It wasn't that much older... Ok, it was quite a bit older! And actually hearing the age difference just emphaised it. But I was always more comfortable with ages rather than differences. Though it didn't really matter as after I turned 18 age didn't matter to me. Infact, most of my friend back in Australia were atleast 10 years older than me. "You make it sound like a life time of a difference. When you say almost 20 years I'm going to assume the lower end of that, which I can then safely reply telling you that alot of my friend back home are older than that."

"Really?" Such interest dsiplayed.

I nodded. "Because for most of my life the only people I ever really interacted with were my parents and adults relatives. I never minded though. Older people always have interesting stories to tell. Blessing and curse..."

The Professor finished that last of his tea. "A curse?"

"Mmm..." Was all I replied before phasing out.

He must've sat there, just watching, as there was no sound or movement - alteast none that I was aware of anyway. Not until he spoke again. "The cake was delicious, Azalia." He began, but didn't continue when I didn't respond.

_A curse_...Kept running through my head.

"Azalia?" He put a hand on my shoulder gently. "Are... You alright?"

Finally my mind came back to reality and I eyed the ground. "Yea, I'm fine." I drew a deep breath and sighed before forcing a smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed the cake, even if it wasn't quite up to standard."

"Didn't I say it was fine? It looked wonderful and tasted perfect. Utterly delightful!" He reassured. "I don't see why you must keep saying otherwise."

I looked back up at him unsure of what I'd find in his face. But to my surprise his face conveyed no curiousity, no concern or confusion, just a smile and... sympathy? "Pr-Hershel," I managed to correct myself, illiciting a smile fromt he Professor, "Thank you again for earlier." I stood up and took the now empty plates to the sink, the Professor joining me only moments later.

But no sooner had I said that had the shame and regret returned to his face, followed by the tilting of the hat. "I'm just glad tha-"

"Hershel!" I interrutped. I peered under his brim. "Like me and the cake, you should stop dwelling on it. No harm done, I'm fine. Really. No worries" I chirped standing on tip toe as I reached up to tilt his hat back to its proper position, looking into his eyes with a warm smile. Well, atleast I hoped that's what I conveyed. "Besides, we had an enjoyable afternoon together, did we not?"

He blushed slightly at the gesture and proximity before quickly regaining his composure. "I do suppose you're right."

"Of courser I am! No point dwelling on the past, right?" A direct quote from him towards the end of our earlier conversation regarding this topic.

We remained as such close proximity for a while. At one point I could've sworn he was going to touch my face or lean closer or something. Or perhaps it was just my mind longing for him to do so. But no. Instead he turned back to the table picked up our empty cups and placed it into the sink with the plates. "Azalia." He said softly as he turned back to me, breaking the tension. "I make up for my lack of communication, allow me to take you out to dinner. I know of a nice little restaurant near by which I'm sure you'll like very much."

I thought about it and came to the conclusion that while I didn't want to say yes, it would be much easier to do so. "I guess it couldn't hurt."

The most joyful smile spread across his face. "Wonderful!" He exclaimed. "We'll leave about half past 6. Does that sounds ok?"

I couldn't help but let out a smile at the Professor's delight as I nodded. "Sounds good to me."

After the Professor had amde the booking, we spent the rest of the afternoon turn evening discussing trivial facts about ourselves. I had no idea that the Professor's favourite colour was blue. Mine was too! Though the way he'd said it, the was something definitely strange about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Alrighty, finally, chapter 8! only took FOREVER!!! just a short inbetween chapter **

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The Professor and I had had such an enjoyable chat that 6 30 almost passed unnoticed and we left the house at a fast pace, laughing as we did. I was surprised that the trip only took about a quarter of an hour. It was a few streets away from the main road on the top of a hill right next to a well-frequented look out. How exciting, dinner with a view! The restaurant itself was a small, cosy looking place, I almost mistook it for beautiful house. But once the Professor pointed it out to me it was easy to spot. I did think it was rather odd of a house to have so many guests around it. Not to mention the lighting and such. What a fool I was, an unobservant fool, yet the Professor seemed to think nothing of it.

At any rate, we parked only a short distance from the restaurant, out on the street as there was no parking just outside. It looked like it would be busy tonight, and you know what? It was the first time I'd thought about it. I was out with the famous Professor Layton. Would we be getting stares? Would people be looking at me strangely. In all honesty, I'm a very plain girl. Plain hair, plain clothes, plain looks (and that's being polite). It was then it occurred to me that I wasn't even dressed nicely. A pair of dirty pants and a crinkled shirt, extremely underdressed. I stopped.

"Azalia. What's wrong, my dear?" Layton asked, turning back to find me a few steps behind him.

I didn't reply, instead eyeing the ground as I shamefully tugged at my shirt in hopes he'd understand.

"Oh, Azalia..." He sighed, closing the small distance between us. "I didn't think it would worry you. I'm terrible sorry, please forgive." His hands were on my shoulders, his face a little too close for comfort. Damnit, why did he have to lean so close? "For what it's worth," He lifted my chin gently and looked into my eyes, "I think you look rather lovely." He then produced something from his pocket. A clip... My hair clip. "I saw you place it on the hallway table as we stepped inside. I know it was rude of me, but I was meant to ask you. But in our rush I only had time to grab it and ask later, which I'd forgotten to do. Again, forgive me." But he didn't wait for me to respond, instead holding the clip up. "May I?"

What else could I do but nod? And I'm glad I did as it seemed he knew what to do with the wretched clip. He made his way behind me and brushed his hands through my hair. I almost fainted. He then pulled the front bits of my hair back and clipped it in place at the back on my head. "Beautiful." He remarked when he came back around to the front, to which I blushed. He then extended his elbow, "Shall we?"

Still a bit dizzy from almost fainting I took his elbow and allowed myself to be lead the rest of the way to the restaurant, barely noticing how I gradually moved closer every metre that brought us closer to the restaurant.


	9. Chapter 9

**It's really great to see so many people favouriting and alerting this story. I feel loved... well, my story feels loved, and makes me happy because I'm writing it ^^ Thank you guys!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 9**

"Reservation for Layton, please." The Professor stated as we approached the front desk.

"Hm, yes." The waiter said after running a finger down the reservation list. "Right this way, sir."

I was turning circles as we walked through the small, cosy and above all romantic restaurant. I had no idea this place even existed! What made the experience even more exciting was the fact that, admittedly, it was my first time in a restaurant (Maccas does not count). It was funny that it should be a high-class one at that. It was a truely beautiful place too. The walls were decorated with fine art and dimmed lights, the floor was carpetted with the most enticing red I'd ever seen, and the ceiling had such intricate patterning with a large, shimmering chandelier to finish it off. Not to mention the chiffon covered tables illuminated by two scented candles each.

The professor seemed thoroughly amused at my excitement and facination as we made our way to the table, which was right next to the glass wall (a huge ceiling to floor window, rather) giving us a perfect view of the city and its shimmering lights mixing with the twinkling stars in the clear night sky. It was truely a magnificent sight.

"This... This it amazing!" I couldn't help but exclaim as the Professor pulled my seat out for me (and of course pushed it in as I sat) before taking his own opposite me. "My gosh, wish one of my exes could've taken me to a restaurant like this. Just once." But then I remembered the foundation on which the relationships were built. Such shame.

"I'm glad you like it." He rested his elbow on the table, his chin on his palm.

"Almost shameful that my first time in a restaurant should be when an aquaintance has taken me out. Well, I suppose it's 'friend' now, or am I a bit ahead of myself?" I sighed, then noticed the Professor's expression, one I couldn't deciefer. Was I pushing boundaries calling us friends?

"I'm honoured, then, to be the first." He smiled as he picked up the menu that was placed infront of me and handed it to me. "I'm sure you'll find the menu quite appealing too. Pick anything you like, I'm paying, remember?"

And he had everyright to be confident in the restaurant he'd chosen. Everything on the menu looked quite apepitising. However, there's always a down side, and it seemed the size of my wallet was it. I knew I wasn't paying, but it didn't make me feel any better about the prices. Infact, it made me feel worse. Some people don't seem to understand that someone else paying isn't always a good thing. Sure, you can order whatever you like, no skin off your back, but what about the other...? Bet you never thought about that! Well, I did and I sank so low into my chair. It also made me feel like such an outsider, what a different world it was...

"Being a gentleman you should know that that wont make me feel any better. Infact, it makes me feel worse. I suppose this is the reason I've never been to a restaurant before." I nevously giggled, burying my face into the menu in embarrasement.

"Come now, Azalia, don't be like that." I lifted my head to be met with a warm smile. He then looked over the menu, letting out a satisified sound, "Caramelised pumkin and eggplant ravioli. What do you think?" I pointed it out on my menu for me.

I braced myself as I followed his finger, but was pleasantly surprised. The portion could be entree or main meal sized, and was relatively cheaper than everything else (but still expensive). "Sound delightful, and it's not as expensive as everything else. And it's vegetarian." A smile spread across my face.

The Professor gave me a quesitoning look. "You're vegetarian a take it."

I nodded shyly. Not many people knew that about me, actually. Of course I wasn't a strict vegetarian, a few eggs here and there, some milk and cheese, even fish or a bit of chicken. I just feel so guilty about the animals. If it were survival or something, that would be different, but these animals were slaughtered for our enjoyment, and... Sorry, rambling. "Yes, I am. And a rather lazy one at that. Nothing extreme."

"I'm impressed." He said, "I'll keep that in mind next time we have dinner. And to drink?"

Next time... There was going to be a next time. I searched the menu again. Only alcohol and expensive 'spring water'.

"Wine? Champagne perhaps?" He asked.

"I actually don't drink. I have very low tolerance." I said softly. "But I could really go for a pink lemonade!"

He chuckled, "Is that so?"

"Indeed, it's my favourite drink, as childish as it may be."

"Are you sure I can't persuade you into some champagne?"

I nodded. "It's not that I get tipsy, I have an allergic reaction. Rash and everything!"

But before the conversation could continue (and get anymore awkward) a waiter approached our table. "Excuse sir, madam, are you ready to order?"

The Professor looked at me first and then back to the waiter. "Yes, Azalia." He indicated to me.

I wriggled slightly in my seat as the waiter gave me an unwelcoming snobbish look. "Very well. Madam?"

It took all my courage and will power to talk, the Professor's reassuring smile making it alot easier. "I-I'll have the... Vegetarian Ravioli please." Indicating on the menu what I wanted.

He wrote my order down as he muttered something about being poor under his breath, to which the Professor frowned. but before the Professor could say anything, the waiter asked what I wanted to drink.

"Um..." I looked on the menu. I gave a childish smile and said softly "No pink lemonade?" as I decided.

It illicited a smile from the Professor, but the waiter scowled at me, "I'm afraid we've nothing of the sort. Perhaps I can offer some popper box juice instead."

Such shame I felt as I sank further into my chair, my cheeks burning with embarrasement and discomfort. The combination of being underdressed, a cheap dish and a childish, unrefined joke was obviously too low class for such a restaurant. To this day I worry when I mention pink lemonade as a favourite drink. The Professor, however, saw nothing wrong with my overall appearance and behaviour and had stood up.

"You are a professional working in a well regarded restaurant. Never in my life have I ever witness such atrocious behaviour even in the most casual of settings." He pushed past the waiter and extended a hand to me, which I took, and he hastily lead me out of the restaurant, but not before having an angry word with the manager.

Goodness! this sudden anger, while in my favour, frightened me. It frightened me alot. A mild as his words and actions may have been, if you were there you would have seen the look in his eyes. He was very hasty with his movements, his voice was raised... And it didn't help that I was easily intimidated. I suppose it was more a shock than anything. I'd never heard anything of raised voices, lost tempers, anger - even in the most trying of situations Professor Layton had always kept his cool. Was it really all a fascade? I guess it was my first taste of the Layton that few knew of. Though I had the feeling (after) that this was the first time he'd ever lost his temper. What happened to Layton?

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to post. I'm so tired. I hope you enjoyed and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Just so you know, I've almost finished writing the story, it's now just a matter of typing it. So don't worry if I don't post for a while, I've not given up, I'm just really really busy!! 3**


	10. Chapter 10

**OMG NOOOO!!! That's what I get for not looking at my story things for a while! I'd almost finished typing out this chapter and came to finish it (after forever!!) and it's gone!!! OMFG!!! WHY JESUS!! WHY!??!?!?! Anywayz, here you go! It was originally longer because I'd been adding stuff along the way, but i've forgotten now, so another short chapter for you. Sorry, ill be tryinng my best to type up some more often! But between uni and work I've barely enough time to eat. Terribly sorry, and thanks for reading!!  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 10**

Another care trip spent in an awkward silence, I wondered if it would always be like this... Professor Layton still seemed quite 'infuriated' by what had happened, and it didn't in the least comfort me. I was still rather anxious, admittedly, as I'd never known the Professor to ever raise his voice in frustration, never to lose his temper or cool in any situation. What happened to his wonderous ability to maintain composure at all times? Of course it was all media and gossip talk, perhaps this was a side of him no-one ever saw. Was this the Layton no-one knew about, no one ever saw?

"I apologise, Azalia." Came his voice, finally, to break the almost deafening silence.

That ever so familiar shameful tone that entered his voice was like a pin in my heart. Though I didn't hear any regret. To that I smiled, hoping I wasn't mistaking. "Apologise? For what?"

His anger had subsided now and it put me infinitely more at ease. He took a glance at me, obviously surprised by my smile, before refocusing on the road. "For what happened in the restraunt. Usually the staff are quite pleasant."

"Oh, that?" I replied casually, emphasising the unimportance of what was said to me. "No worries. It wasn't your fault anyway, why are you apologising?" Despite my calm, cheerful tone, it was trying desperately to hide the anxiety I felt from the tension of only a few moments earlier. But I was relieved, however, to find that he was ashamed of the restraunt and not himself, or perhaps I thought too soon.

"And..." Yes, I did... His voice was quieter now. "I apologise for my behaviour. I dont' know what came over me."

My head shot up in astonishment. He didn't really believe that he'd done wrong, did he? The thoughts of him not apologising for his behaviour, I didn't actually want him to, I just thought he would. And that aweful silence again sunk in.

'Why was he apologising?'

"Because..." He began.

'Oh, did I say that out loud?' I thought making sure my lips were sealed to ensure no further spoken thoughts. I sincerely hoped I'd said no more than 'why' if I had said something.

"It wasn't appropriate and it seems I've upset you because of it." We pulled over, now outside my house, and the Professor looked up at the sky with a distant, guilty look beginning to surface, but still no regret. He then looked away.

But this time I didn't smile, instead extending a comforting hand to rest of his. "Thank you."

His head slowly lifted and turned to me, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Thank you for standing up for me." I said as sincerely as I could. "Everybody loses their tempter once in a while, even a gentleman such as yourself! Even so, standing up for a girl more than makes up for any wrongs with 'bad behaviour', wouldn't you agree?" I couldn't help but smile again as I watched amusement replace the guilt as shame.

"Well, I do suppose you're right. Nevertheless it was unacceptable and it shant happen again." He replied sounding much like the Professor I'd heard so much about. "Thank you." He then gently gripped my hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a feather light kiss on it. "By the way, you're not a girl. You're very much a lady, a woman."

I was paralysed. My heart was pouding, my breath uncontrolled, my cheeks burning.

'Do it again!' I mentally begged. 'PLEASE! Do it again!' But nothing happened.

And before I knew it, Layton was out of the car and had opened the door for me, an extended hand waiting for me to grab it. "Azalia?"

I undid my seatbelt, still rather dazed, and took his hand. "Thank you." I finally managed. I was still thinking about that gentle kiss which he'd placed on my hand. It may not have been of affection, but does it really change the fact that he'd kissed my hand?

As we reached the front door my stomach hungrily growled, much to my embarrasement. "It would seem the excitement has done nothing to subside my hunger. And I'm sure you're fairing no better. Come in and I'll fix something up for us. I'm afraid I've nothing fancy, but if you fancy some eggs and such I'd be more than happy to cook some for you. I'm afraid though that I'm prodominantly vegeterian..."

He smiled that wonderful smile of his as he stepped in after allowing my inside first. "Sounds good to me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, there goes the rest of my documents... Thats what I get for leaving it so long I suppose! SUCH A FOOL I AM!! Anywayz, I apologise for taking so long, AGAIN!! Been really busy. It's like work, uni, work, home (maybe eat dinner), bed, repeat haha. Though I do get snippets inbetween to read other's fanfics, because it's much faster and easier to read one than it is to write one (unless its really really long and boring hahhahahhahahhaha). Ok, I'll stop with this non-sense now.**

**WARNING!! I did mention in the description that it was higher rated for later chapters... well this is where it starts... Sheds a little light on Azalia!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

The events of earlier were well forgotten as we sat finishing our dinner in a, for once, comforting silence. It was rather nice just enjoying eachother's company. It was well into the evening now, my clock reading sometime past 10, and though our dinners were now finished our minds were still filled with the comical scene we'd put on while preparing it.

I was making omlettes, an easy job, but the kind Professor insisted he help. How could I refuse when he had already taken the knife off me to cut the vegetables for the omlette? It was also decided we 'decorate' our own omlettes. So there we were cutting up vegetables together when of course there was a slight accident. It couldn't be helped that a bit of springonion flew from my hand and landed on the Professor's jacket. Nor could it be helped that the Professor accidently got tomato on my sleeve. It started as a few accidents, but it took a turn when the Professor exclaimed "Really, Azalia!" as he wiped oil on my face as I'd done to him. And from there it only got worse. But oh, what fun we had!

"I quite enjoyed that. Perhaps we should do this again." He remarked after wiping his mouth after finishing his omlette.

I giggled as I picked up m tissue and used the corner to wipe away a bit of tomato from his chin which had remained there as a reminder of a minor food fight. "Not bad for a first date."

For once it was the Professor who was caught off guard by my somewhat intimate gesture and joke. Though it did make me realise what I'd done and I looked away flustered. "Sorry."

But when I lifted my eyes I was met with a warm smile. "No, no need to apologise. I was merely caught by surprise as you could see. It's not often I need someone else to clean my face for me."

But despite him stating it was ok we were now both blushing. Until...

"Excuse me." I said, standing, as the phone began ringing. At first I walked casually towards the reciever on the wall next to the door, but as I drew nearer a chill ran down my spine. Something wasn't quite right. "Hello?"

And there was that dreaded, aweful, familiar voice that had caused me so much pain. "Lia!" You have no idea how many times I've called!"

My hand, my body was beginning to shake and I fought to keep my composure infront of the Professor and over the phone. "No, no idea at all. Not with the mass amount of voice mail you've left me. Even one this evening that I came home to which I wasn't too happy about." I sounded strong and annoyed, but I was so frightened I felt like crying. "I may not be the prettiest girl you've met, or pretty at all really, but that doesn't mean I appreciate being called ugly! Nor do I appreciate the verbal abuse." I told him, my voice raised, almost forgetting about my guest behind me. "Now, I have company, ok?"

There was a silence and I was going to hang up when I heard a low growl followed by a shouted string of abuse. "Now listen, bitch! Don't think you can go fuck whoever you want! Don't think I don't know where you are! You're still mine! Just you wait, I've been saving babe, saving."

"Saving..." I scoffed. "You couldn't save if your dick depended on it!"

The aggitation in his voice increased. "Don't you worry about that! Just a little short of cash. Just a little."

"Good! Stay there! Find some other whore to throw around, because I'm not taking it anymore! I thought I made that clear to you. I'm not yours anymore!" Hot, burning tears were forming in my eyes at that point, my voice starting to shake. I hated myself for it, for letting him see. It let me know that he was winning, and he loved it. Why? Why wouldn't he? Knowing I was on the verge of breaking, he could do anything!

"Not mine? Well, who else will have you? One look at you and they'll know what you really are." His voice was more controlled now, steady. He had the upper hand and he knew it.

"I'm not yours, I don't need to be anyones."

"Sure! That's because you know anyone who gets close to you will see what you are... a-"

"No I'm not!" A tear trickled now my face and I leaned my side against the wall hoping the Professor hadn't seen.

"You're a fucking whore! A fucking, ugly whore with no dignity, no morals. Worst of all, you're a shit girlfriend."

I began to sob. "Like you can talk..." I muttered inaudibly.

"But lucky you had me, and still do." His voice was so content, so evi. "And you know that even though you're no good I'll still have you because I love you." Those 3 words bit through me. Those three words which had so often brought me down. "So come back and it'll be all better."

Between my sobs I managed to talk back. "You bastard..." It was soft and I had to repeat it quite loudly. "You bastard! I'm never going back. It's because of people like you that I've had to move. Just leave me alone!" I slid down the wall, my body so exhausted from shaking and holding back tears. The phone dropped and dangle beside me tapping the wall as it swung. I heard him still, yelling my name. "Fuck off! Go away! Please... Leave me alone..." I pulled my knees under my chin and buried my face in my arms, allowing the tears to flow freely. Then I heard the reciever being put back on the hook and the horrid man's voice was gone.

For a moment I thought I was alone, but soon felt a hand come to rest on my shoulder. At first I'd forgotten that anyone was there, I'd forgotten the Professor was there and had heard, seen everything. I jerked away, curling tighter into my baller shaking. The hand came again, lifting a little when I flinched but then held strong. Another hand followed and I began to panic as I was pulled backwards into strong arms.

"Azalia." Came that familiar voice, one I had been longing to hear, so comforting and soothing. I relaxed into his hold. "It's ok." He rocked me soothingly and he held me tightly with his protective arms. After a few minutes of silence, not including my sobs, I finally spoke, my voice still shaking with emotion. "Why do you comfort me? Knowing what I am?"

"And what might that be?" He asked. It was actually more a question of 'why' rather than 'what'.

"A cheap whore, that's what I am. A cheap, lousy whore..."

His arms tightened around me. "No you're not. Whoever that was and whatever they said, it isn't true. They are wrong." I felt him shift, his breath now on my ear. "Azalia, I want you to know something." He paused, releasing me. I heard him stand and I look up to find him crouched infront of me. He then brought a hand to my cheek, drying my tears before gently brushing my loose hair behind my ear. "You may not see it, but believe me when I tell you this." He cupped my face with his hands so I would look him in the eyes. "You are a beautiful woman. Not a girl, a woman."

"Professor..." I whispered, more tears streaming down my face which the Professor wiped away with his thumbs.

He stood up again, bending forward with extended hands. "Now let's get you up."

I took his hands and was once again amazed at how easily he was able to lift me. "You're very strong." I said.

He looked at me questioningly. "Am I? Well, you aren't very heavy." He smiled. After a moment he continued. "Azalia." He waited for me to acknowledge him (which I did with a nod) before continuing. "Please know that if you ever need any help, or if you just want the company, you can always call me. Please do." He didn't even press the subject for which I was extremely thankful.

I nodded. "I will."

We stood for a while in silence, somewhat unaware of still linked hands. But finally I broke the silence again as I removed my hands from his. "Hershel..." His face read surprised at the sound of me saying his name. "Please know that you are the first, and probably the only person I'd ever confide this to, and it wasn't intentional. Not that I don't trust you, but my reputation has been damaged enough." I felt such shame come over me that I could no longer look at the man. I could feel his eyes on me and I just wanted to make it all stop. "But even then, as much as I feel I can trust you..." I couldn't finish as the tears and sobs began to build and leak through.

His hand came to rest on my shoulder again and I flinched, then pulled away... Why was I so frightened? I couldn't deny that the touch of a man, regardless of who they are, would cause me to be uneased, but to do that to the Professor... How could I?

Did it matter though? I was a filthy whore, what would I be to the famous Professor Layton?

"I'm sorry, Professor," I finally managed to get out, "but it's late, and it's probably best you leave now." My voice was so shaky, I was amazed I had any control over it at all.

"Azalia, I don't want to leave you when you're in such a state." He said, concern thick in his voice. "But if it's as you wish I have no choice but to comply." He then picked up his coat from the back of a chair at the table. "But do you really wish me to leave? I don't mind staying longer, later. As long as you're alright."

I didn't have the strength to raise my voice much above a whisper. "I've already shamed myself enough infront of you."

"Nonsense!" He stepped closer to me and leaned down to look me directly in the eye as best he could (as I was trying to avoid it). "There is nothing to be ashamed about, not infront of me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Let's hope I don't leave typing this up for too long!!!**

* * *

**Chapter 12 - an extract from Azalia's journal  
**

Mark called the night Layton and I had dinner together... That damn bastard! How did he find me? Never in my life has any guy ever treated me so badly, claim to hate me so much and still want to hold on to me. How on earth did I ever let myself get into these situations? I always knew I wouldn't be so lucky, as evident with Mark.

A whore... That's what he called me. No, that's what I called myself. It's true, though, isn't it? Security and comfort for sex. But I never did get my part of the deal, if there ever was any.

I kid myself, I'm such a fool. And infront of the Professor! He thinks I'm a whore... But I suppose that would be better than him knowing the truth... I don't know how, but it seems better. Perhaps because he doesn't know I let it happen, I gave myself because I thought I was loved. God, I'm crying again!

At any rate... Enough of this non-sense.

Not much was said after that, after I broke down infront of him. We were silent for a long time, the Professor comforting and reassuring me. It's not hard to guessing that I ended up sobbing again. But he was gone around 11 and I wondered how he'd ever get back to his home at a reasonable time, or how he would get up in the morning. But it wasn't his lack of sleep that I was worried about at that point, but what he'd witnessed and how I'd acted infront of him. So shameful! Even more shameful that I should be more worried over the knowledge rather than his wellbeing! I couldn't bring myself to think about the Professor without feeling shame! So I tried hard to forget, but it made it hard, dreadfully hard, now with the restaurant incident in the papers and talk of Professor Layton's new mystery girl.

The public was, of course, shocked to hear of the Professor losing his cool. Don't get me wrong, they still love him, some more because of his chivalary, but they were just.. surprised... Yes, surprised is a better word.

And as it turned out, the papers also mentioned a certain 'recently' wed couple by the names of Luke, Layton's former apprentice, and Flora, his adopted daughter. One would wonder why on earth such a thing would be brought up, but apparently it was the first time the dear Professor had seemed so happy with anyone since the leaving of the two children under his care. But it wasn't just that. Infact, it was the only non-work related outing he'd been out on since before the wedding.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. I think I'd be pretty depressed if all my kids left home all at once, especially with no-one else (apparently) to keep me company. But I feel there was still something more, perhaps to do with the fact that he had never mentioned his apprentice to me, nor would he have said anything of his daughter if I hadn't brought up the issue in the girl's room. I gasped out loud at the thought that perhaps he'd fallen inlove with young Flora. But while she was very beautiful and graceful, and exceeded in almost everything she tried her hand at, surely the Professor had more decency than that.

I didn't want to make assumption of any sort though (especially not any of that kinda), so I pushed it to the back of my mind. Being now a friend... Was I a friend? Friendly aquaintance, (better safe than sorry) it wasn't right. Just knowing him personally, it wasn't right. It's not right anyway!! Oh, my head hurts! At any rate, the point was that when he is ready and felt I needed to know he would tell me himself. If he ever is ready...

Anyway another thing that grabbed my interested which I'd mentioned a little earlier was the article about the mystery girl: me. Thank heavens no-one had photographed me. But there were descriptions and sources. I was never one to believe magazines and tabloids, but this just confirmed what I already knew to be true.

Blonde hair? Blue eyes? Rude? The only thing they got right was the daggy part. None of the descriptions were right about my appearance of personality, unless I've had HUGE misconceptions about myself. And nor had I even spoken to about my new, developing friendship that had started by chance. How could anyone possibly claim to have known about this budding romance since last year? I wasn't even in the country!

But besides all the false descriptions and personal quotes, there was one other fact they had right. I was definitely out of his league. Which brings me to the final point...

Layton's mystery girl...

Implications?

There's something between us!

God it makes my heart pound just thinking about it!!

But is there really?

That's where my heart starts to hurt.

Well, according to the tabloids he was content when he was with me. The only person he's been out with optionally since Luke and Flora's marriage. Not that I believed everything (or anything really) in these gossip articles, but I just can't ignore it! Especially not since I think I have feelings for him... Real feelings...

Oh! It's just so confusing! What was I thinking! What do I think? No! I can't rely on or trust the media. The only person who can tell me anything would be Professor Layton himself. If only I had the courage...

* * *

**Looks like I finished it quite quickly. Forgot it was just a short chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Pre-writing these chapters is a good idea. Though I know I'll do a few and not do the rest until I've caught up with 'em and then take forever again! hahahaha!!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 13**

"Oh, sweet jesus!" I exclaimed as I dashed past the clock on my way to the bathroom. "5 minutes, shit!"

Five minutes left before I had to leave to be 5 minutes early for the bus. I should really be aiming for 10 minutes, though, but never learning from my mistakes...

"Ok. Bag, name tag. watch, wallet, hair tied, uniform... Shoes!! Where are they?" I frantically searched the usual places for then. Why is it that finding shoes when you're in a rush is always so hard? I only had 2 pairs and I still had trouble keep track of them. "Ah, there you are!" In the bathroom, god knows why. And I was just in the bathroom too! "Let's hope the bus is a little late." I panted as I ran out the door and down the street.

Relief! Bus wasn't there, nor had it already come and gone as evident by the few people waiting. Infact, it pulled up just as I reached the stop. Now that the first bus of the morning was boarded, the rest of the day would play out fine.

* * *

"Hey, Sylvia, I'm off for lunch. Did you want me to get your usual?" I asked as I passed the reception desk.

Ah, dear Sylvia. A young mother of 2 left by her partner to raise them by herself. He left the country, disappeared almost, so the bugger wasn't paying child-support either. So the cost of paying bills, debts and raising children left her with almost no time to look after them. It was fortunate that he neighbours were more than willing to look after her children while she worked her 8am til 10pm days at the hospital and the local convenient store. She even asked work to alter her shift so she could finish an hour earlier (by skipping her lunch break) so she could get home and make dinner for her kids before heading off to her next job.

I admired her strength and courage very much. She refused assistance, insisting they were her kids and she would support them. She put me to shame, truely. It made me glad I'd never fallen pregnant.

"Yes please! And thanks again for babysitting tonight! You have no idea how much I appreciate it." She repled cheerfully.

She was always so cheerful and optimistic. And always greatful for anything anyone did for her. Even something small like getting her her favourite chicken wrap while on your lunch break which I usually did.

"No trouble at all, you know that! I'm just glad I could help. Glad that you let me help." I teasingly poked my tongue out at her as I waved bye andheaded out of the ward.

* * *

Out on the streets the lunch crowd had started to leave. I was glad my lunch break tended to be around 2-3pm. Almost no queues, and often cheap food from the closing stores. Oh, and plenty of places to sit, though I did prefer to go back to the wards to eat so I could Sylvia her lunch and eat in privacy.

I did not hesitate in choosing a shop to get lunch from. Sylvia always enjoyed a wrap from the local chicken store with almost almost gave me a huge discount due to the time I came and how often I buy from them. As for myself though, I had to spend a few minutes eyeing the menu, trying to decide what I wanted to eat.

"Good afternoon," Said the man behind the counter to a customer behind me. I didn't pay it any mind until he added, "Professor Layton."

"Good afternoon to you too, Owen." Came that voice which seemed to always make my heart skip a beat. His form then came into the periphery of my vision. "And to you too, Azalia."

I lifted my head slowly to meet the Professor's cheerful face. "Hello." I said shyly.

* * *

Ten minutes had passed since we took a seat at one of the shop tables and we'd hardly said a word. It was rather awkward. Of it didn't help that in all probability I was the one causing the awkwardness. I, of course, neglected his advice/offer and did not call him. Infact, I'd avoided him and his phone calls for the past few weeks. I'd answered once, the rest of the timing letting the answering machine get it and listening to the messages after.

"It's a bit late for lunch, isn't it Prof- Hershel?" I said, his name still not sounding right coming from my lips.

"Ah, yes," He replied, "I suppose it is. But seeing as I had only 2 lectures today, I finished early, therefore I wiated until i was done before worrying about lunch."

"Fair enough."

"And you?"

"My breaks are usually around this time if I have a day shift." I replied. I waited, hoping he was saying something more or change that subject, but when he didn't I was forced to act. "Work out better this way anyway. No crowds, no queues, discounted food."

He smiled at me, obviously amused with my way of thinking. "Well, yes, it is rather pleasant being able to have lunch without a crowd. I quite agree.

And again there was another awkard silence as we idly ate our food - we both had salads. I couldn't help but feel responsible for the tension.

"Prof-Professor..." I started.

I could he the sharp inhale at my addressing him formally. "Mm?" He looked up at my, a bit of dressing on the side of his mouth.

I giggled as I picked up my napkin and leaned over the table. "Honestly." I mock-sighed. It was amusing to watch the expression on his face as I wiped at the side of his mouth. It seemed for a moment that his cheeks reddened ever so slightly and that he was lost for words. The amusement soon wore off when he didn't respond and I was left parallysed as his eyes held mine. Time froze as we stared at eachother.

Finally I looked away. "Um..."

What an awkward moment I'd made for us! Just thinking about it is making me feel uncomfortable. But I afforded no more time and bit the bullet. "About the other night..." It was so hard to keep myself from stuttering. Nervousness, embarrasement and shame began to surface, and it was made worse with the Professor's eyes on me. "I'm sorry..."

There was another silence. Then, "Whatever for, my dear?" He finally responded.

It was a relief that he was willing to forget it, but I couldn't. Not with what had transpired. "About what happened, how I behaved. And I'm sorry you had to hear that..."

There was a seriousness in his face which comforted me rather than the opposite. He was taking me seriously, not just brushing it off. He was concerned. Well, it was either that or displeased. Suddenly I wasn't so comfortable anymore.

"And..." Gosh, it took all my nerve to continue, "I'd like to thank you for comforting me. How about dinner at my place tomorrow night? That is, of course, if you're free." And when he didn't reply I began stuttering nonsense. "Well, I... That is... Not if..."

"Dinner sounds fine." He said, much to my relief, that wonderful smile gracing his lips again.

I sighed relief. "You always do that! Do you enjoy making me anxious?"

I could see an expression half of amusement and half of guilt, but before the man could reply,

"Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but did you want that wrap now?" Called Owen from behind the counter.

"Oh, yes, thank you!" I replied as I stood up. "How terrible of me, I almost forgot about Sylvia. Thank you!" I looked back at Layton who was, too, now standing. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Around 6 is ok?" I put a hand on his arm and gave it a friendly squeeze as he nodded. "And thank you for lunch. Next time it's on me." I called behind me as I rushed out of the store, chicken wrap in hand.

It was an enjoyble break indeed, but little did I know it was lead to other things...

* * *

**Another chapter done. Hoping you enjoyed it. And crap! gonna need to type faster!!!! JESUS!! it's catching up to me!!  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Yet another retyped chapter ^^ Of course there's probably the biggest chance that I was lazy and couldn't even just upload this hahaha! Apologies if so! Thanks for reading so far and enjoy!

* * *

**

**Chapter 14**

I was so glad that Sylvia wasn't annoyed that I'd spent the lunch hour outisde. Even without my explanation (I bumped into a friend) she didn't mind, she just brushed it off reassuring me that I was going out of my way to do her a favour. "It is _your_ break afterall, not mine." She'd said, dismissing all my apology attempts. But I did manage to brush away her payment, to make up for taking my time.

At any rate, that was long gone and I was now at the supermarket trying to figure out what I was cooking for dinner that night. Couldn't just be something simple, as it was the famous Professor Layton comig over, and I did have time to prepare this time. It was less than 8 hours (yes, 8 hours. Seems like a long time, but when it's like 10am and you're guest is coming at 6pm, it doesn't seem like much time at all!) that I had to think of something and prepare it. Damn me and my impulsive nature!

Of course it didn't help that since that night we'd had tea and dinner together (the same night I'd received that unpleasant phone call) I'd received several calls, almost every second day. I wasn't so much as worried about 'him' anymore, though, so much as I was about receiving another call infront of the dear Professor.

"A lasagne!" I finally let out as I passed some of the froze italian dinners. Of course I wasn't going to serve froze food, I knew how to make lasagne myself so I set about finding the ingredients. And luckily I'd found everything I needed. Sause, veges, cheese and ... no lasagne sheets. Alas, I reluctantly took the extra ingredients I would be needing and set off for home. It was just past 12 when I left the shops and I had a long day ahead of me... Though not long enough. And it seemed it just got worse...

"Hey, that's her..."

"Look..."

"... nothing like the description..."

I slowed my pace as I walked through the market place, realising it wasn't some D-grade celebrity passing through that everyone was talking about but me.

"So that's the girl Professor Layton's been seeing..."

"Not very pretty, think he'd have more taste..."

How did they know? But just as the question popped into my head I got a glimpse of something: the Professor and myself on the cover on a newspaper. Our meeting was in the papers already! But how? I quickly bought a newspaper, ignoring the strange look the clerk gave me, and I hurried off for home as I skimmed through the paper for the article, and I came to a dead stop when I found it.

_'Professor Layton's Mysterious Girl Solved'_ was in big letter on the third page, accompanied with a picture of us in the chicken shop as I was wiping the dressing from his mouth.

_'Professor Hershel Layton' _it continued, _'was spotted yesterday at the local chicken shop down the street from the college he teaches at with a young woman known by the staff as Azalia, a nurse from the local hospital.'_

I could feel eyes watching me as I anxious scanned the article, so I closed the paper while I continued my walk home. Towards the end of the stretch of markets though, I found myself almost alone so I stopped near an alley way and again opened the paper._  
_

There was some other rubbish about me along with yet another photo of the two of us and one of me by myself, profile of course. My goodness I looked atrocious! And something referring to an article written last year about the somewhat scandelous marriage of Layton's apprentice and adopted daughter, Luke and Flora, both of whom we was guardian to. Again Luke and Flora... And I couldn't help but wonder...

"So this is your new fuck buddy, huh?" Came a familiar voice from behind me that made my stomach knot. "How'd you manage such a catch?"

I turned around sharply with a gasp. "Mark!"

He grabbed my wrist. "Now, let's go." He dragged me towards him.

I let him pull me, I always did, as I was in too much shock to do anything else. "How did you-"

"Got enough cash, remember what I said?" He grinned, his yellowing teeth showing.

Under any other circumstances I would've knocked this guy out- or atleast tried. But I knew Mark, and he knew me. He was a tall, built guy who didn't take shit from anyone, and he knew almost every defensive move I had. There was no way I stood a chance. Aside from that, I was still shocked and now afraid. He was here, in England, infront of me.

"Come on, Lia." He began pulling my now helpless form out of the streets and into the alley way I'd so conviently stopped next to - how generic!

"No Mark, please... Don't - I-" Was all I could get out. My mind raced. "Help!" I began yelling.

He turned sharply. "Shut up!" He hissed as he struck me.

"Someone, help!" I screamed through the pain.

You know, it's amazing how help don't pay attention - they choose not to. A dieing person in the street would be paased without a second thought. Curse them!

"Please-" But before I could continue he put his hand around my neck, choking me. All that was going through my head was, strangely enough, what the Professor would think if I wasn't home when he arrived. Oh, and of course how to escape.

But before I could think of anything I was suddenly released and I collapsed, gasping for air. But upon looking up I came face to face with a gun barrel to which I instantly closed my eyes. But nothing happened.

"Don't worry, pretty lady." Came a husky, dark, evil voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. That man is gone."

I opened my eyes and short a short, devilish looking man. His face was so long and gaunt, his black hair gelled up side ways to form 2 demonic horn shapes and his oily moustache and beard a stereotype of satan's. He was dirty and reeked of death and smoke.

"It's ok, he's gone." He offered a hand a tendril of a hand. "Don't be a afraid, you're safe now." There was something in his voice that didn't sound quite right and I wondered if this was really a better option than being left to Mark's devices.

But there was no time to think about such things, so I got up myself ignoring the extended hand. "Thank you." I managed, barely suppressing the 'I suppose' that threatened to pass my lips.

"Only doing the right thing." He said with what looked more like a smirk than a smile.

"I suppose I owe you." I said cautiously.

He waved his hand carelessly. "Think nothing of it, your life is enough payment."

"Well, just thank you, then."

A smirk like smile came across his lips again and I watched him as he slipped into the shadows and disappear, smoke swirling it's way from where he'd left. It was only after a moment's wait that I shook my head wondering if anything actually happened, but the pain at my neck and my wrist was more than enough of a reminder that it was so very real. Too shocked to even think about calling that police I idled my way home, forgetting about my scattered groceries. I'd have to cancel dinner with the Professor, say I'd hurt myself or something. He didn't need to know the finer details, just that I wasn't up to doing dinner that night.

Sigh... "I was really looking forward to it too..."

* * *

**I'll have the next up when I feel like it I suppose :P Thanks for reading, again!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Once again I really sorry abou that mix up! Really sorry! You can't believe just how sorry I am!And sorry it's taken me so long! Truely I am! And thank you again for reading and being patient with me! I really appreciate it!**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

"PIck up! Please, pick up!" I muttered as I listened to the ringing coming through the receiver. "Damn! I really should have gotten a mobile number too!" As the ineffitable engaged tone sounded I slammed the phone down - not so much as an answering machine. He wasn't home, probably teaching at the college. I paced the room wondering whether I should try ringing a 6th time. You'd think by that point I'd just accept that I'd have to pull something out of my ass to make tonight not a complete flop!

I didn't even realise how much time I'd wasted at the shops and being assaulted! It was almost 4 when I'd gotten home meaning he'd already have left by the time I'd stepped in the door anyway. In less than 2 hours I'd be serving Professor Layton nothing...

"DAMNIT! Why couldn't I have gotten a blasted mobile number!" I yelled heading into the kitchen to scavenge through the cupboards. Five minutes in there had been fruitful - tomato paste, beans, small portion of mince, random pasta and lots of garlic. Atleast it was still italian. "Spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread it is then." I sighed and began the preparation seeing as whether I was up to it or not the Professor was coming.

* * *

I had left the simmering bolognese on the stove and the garlic bread in the oven and had gone to get changed when the door bell rang and 6 o'clock on the dot. I had my plain, black (and casual) dress on and was just covering up the bruises that were becoming evident. I finished it and gave my hair a quick brush and dashed to the door. I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes. _'It's gonna be ok.' _I told myself, then opened the door.

I paused for a second, taking in this remarkable sight. As if he didn't already look spiffing enough everyday. A dark brown pair of trousers with a matching jacket and what looked like a new pale orange top, the top two bottons undone. His usual colours but more striking in tones, and his top hat, while a tad shorter than his usual, was of the same deep brown as his jacket and pants with the same orange as his shirt lining the bottom of the hat. It was what he normally wore, I admit, but really, you just had to see him to completely understand! It was a smart look, very smart with a slightly more modern look than what he usually was.

All this was taken in within a split second and I managed to recollect myself before too much time passed. "Professor Layton, impecible timing!" I said, stepping aside to allow him in. "Please, come in. I'm just finishing dinner. It's nothing fancy I'm afraid."

"No need to apologise, it's the simple things we most appreciate." He said pulled some flowers from behind his back. Just a small bunch of pink azaleas, simple but beautiful ._'Just like you.' _I was hoping for him to say. "For you."

I was stunned. And of course, being stunned as I was, I could hardly get a word out, or even lift my hands to recieve them. "Th-thank you. They're amazing. But you didn't have to..." I looked at them involuntarily, a bit flustered to look the Professor in the eyes. When I finally did, though, I saw him open his mouth to talk but hesitate. My eyes widened in anticipation, but he just smiled.

"I'm glad you like them. And I wanted to."

I was a little disappointed since I'd gotten my hopes so high in that split second, but that last comment put a dopey smile on my face that I couldn't wipe off and I invited him in and showed him through to the dining room at the back of the house, which I'd rushed to clear and set up. The first time I'd ever used the dining room. Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful little room. Big enough for 4 guest if needed, but comfortable for 2. I had a dark oak table in the middle, with two chairs of the same wood on either side (an heirloom from my grandmother). On the opposite wall was a brick fireplace which I'd used once when I first moved in just to see if it worked, and above it a mantle piece with a few candles. No photos. I didn't have photos. On the right wall hung a clock I'd bought at an antique store - an imitation something that was worthless, therefore cheapily bought, and against the left wall stood my beloved piano (an heirloom from my grandfather who loved playing and listening to it).

"Take a seat, I'll be back in a tick, dinner is almost ready!" I said as I left him.

I reached the kitchen just in time, for the bolognese was starting to come to a bit more than a simmer. I gave it a quick stir then removed it from the stove. A quick check in the oven for the garlic bread and I was then preparing the 2 bowls for the pasta and bolognese sauce. With the pasta served, I took the garlic bread out and cut it into for slices and put them into a basket.

"Spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread." Came the Professor's voice from the doorway.

I turned around to meet his amused smile, the two filled plates in my hands. "I told you it was simple... I thought since we didn't have Italian the other night in the restaurant I thought I'd compensate." I drew a sharp breath after finishing the sentence, seeing the smile vanish from his face. I hoped to God that he wasn't offended in anyway. "I mean, since it was my fault really..."

He finally sighed, then smiled again, one that melted my heart. "I don't see how it could ever be your fault. But let us forget about it, we did have a wonderful dinner in the end, didn't we?" He walked towards me and my heart beat faster. He was so close by the time he stopped infront of me - I could feel his body warmth. "Let me help you." He then took the full plates from my hands and turned to walk back to the dining room.

I couldn't move for a moment. When I finally did a hot flush came over my face and I quickly put my cold hands to my cheeks in an attempt to either hide or cool them.

When I eventually joined him with the garlic bread I found he'd already set the table and was examining the piano.

"An heirloom I can see." He remarked. "Magnificant workmanship. I'd imagine it wouldn't have been cheap to bring it over here." He turned to me as I placed the garlic bread on the table, a look of wonder over his face.

"It was worth it. I couldn't just leave it." I replied. "Drinks?"

"Just water will do." He said as he followed me back to the kitchen. "Do you play?"

I thought about my answer, because no doubt he'd ask me to play. "A little..." Perhaps a little too much said.

"You must play for me after dinner, if that's ok with you." The look in his eyes made it even more impossible to say no - as saying no to Professor Layton is pretty much impossible as is.

"If you like, but I've not played for a number of years." That was indeed true.

"I can see your unease. If it makes you uncomfortable, then you need not, but I would be much obliged if you would." That damned smile again!

"It's ok, I could give it a go, but no harsh judgement. I'll be fumbling!"

"Agreed."

And that was how I agreed to play piano for Professor Layton.

After that, a bottle was filled with water was brought back to the table along with two wine glasses (just because) and dinner was commenced. And once again, nothing but praise was uttered for the food. What a dear...

* * *

**Finally finished that chapter! Apologies for those who have been waiting so patiently! I am still writing, just slowly... No time! I'm on practicals right now, so I'm doing that full time, as well as trying to do paper work for it and working casual any spot I have available. I'm so tired, but I'm still typing a few lines here and there! Thanks you again!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ok, prewrote this one, and thank god! Hope the last chapter was ok, was a bit here and there because i was half typing from memory and changed a few things . but anywayz, onwards!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Dinner was ok... Just ok. Nothing fancy or special. Simple pasta and bread, like I mentioned before... But the Professor, being the gentleman he was and still is, swallowed each mouthful with the utmost pleasure writen across his face. Of course I ended up apologising numerous times for the simplicity, again, and the Professor reassured me otherwise, again.

And after all was washed up I left the (gentle)man to use the bathroom - stalling my performance of course hahaha. But never did I imagine it would lead to an amazing discovery! As I walked back to the dining room I could hear the piano being played softly - evidently the practice pedal in use. It was a beautiful flowing melody in the right, accompanied by a counter melody played by the left hand it seemed. It was moving from a calm major harmonies to more disonnent notes, desparately fighting for dominance. The piece as a whole was amazing and I regretted entering the room for no sooner had I stepped through the doorway did he stop and turn to face me.

"Azalia, I apologise. It was you who was meant to be playing. I also apologise for not asking permission first as I know this is a valuable piano. It is truely beautiful. Everything has been repaired and restored. It is of the top most quality, my dear." He said, making a move to stand.

"Oh, Professor." I interjected, my hand motioning for him to remain seated. "Your playing is wonderful, please don't stop." My passion for music had been lying dormant in me in these times of stress. But hearing the Professor play, I wanted -no- needed to hear it. "I know you had asked me to play, but however can I now? Your playing is so amazing! I can hardly describe it... Please play somemore."

He looked a bit disheartened, seemingly because I wasn't going to play at that point, but he then happily turned back to start again. "If you like."

"Practice pedal off." I said softly, smiling when he released it. The notes filled my ears, my mind and soul. Almost nothing joyed me more than listening to someone play piano (nicely of course).

I closed my eyes as I sat at the table, allowing myself to escape for a moment until the doorbell rang, stopping the music. At first I was frustrated as my eyes snapped open, then dread filled me. "Excuse me." I said, leaving the dining room, but as I approached the door I fought to maintain my composure. Then the pounding started, and it served to confirmed my fears.

"What in heavens name..." Came the Professor's voice as he joined me in the hall.

"Azalia!" Came that horrible voice. "Open up you bitch!" More pounding followed.

My arms found their way around one of the Professor's as I stared nervously at the sillouette pounding against my front door.

"I know you're in there, you slut! That doctor's in there too, isn't he?" He shouted.

"Azalia," finally came the soothing sound of Professor Layton's voice, "We should call the police." He said softly and lead me into the kitchen. He, too, knew who was at the door.

Through the entire wait for the police I sat next to the Professor at the kitchen table in this arms. If I wasn't so scared or upset, perhaps it would've been romantic, a dream come true. Why only during times of crisis?

By the end of the ordeal, I was left with a broken window and a curious Professor. I explained the events of earlier to him, even the strange man. The strange man seemed to spark an interest in him and it made me wish I'd gotten a name so as the please him.

"Well, it explains the bruising. I wasn't going to ask until I was about to leave. Are you sure you'll be alright? You could stay at my place since your window is broken. I really -"

"Hershel," He'd corrected me earlier, "I assure you, I'll be fine! I promise. The police have got it under control." I leaned against the doorway, a faint smile on my lips. "I'm really just tired at the moment."

"Well, I'm sure you're aware of how unhappy I am to leave you like this." He said reluctantly, a stern look coming over his face. "At any rate, the police will contact you within a few days."

The smile on my face vanished and a heavy cloud seemed to come down on me. I sighed. "Mm... yea..."

He lifted my chin, "Azalia, they can't do much unless you say something." The concern in his voice and in his eyes filled me with guilt. We both knew I wouldn't press charges, nor say anything about the events of that afternoon. He passed his fingers gently over my bruises then suddenly pulled me into an embrace. I let my face bury into his shoulder as I sobbed.

"Hershel..."

* * *

**Thanks again! Just a short, but acion packed chapter (well, I thoguht it was...) anaywayz, do your stuff, R&R as always my faithful followers! Much love!**

**XOXO  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm totali on a roll! lets hope i can keep this up! And i have a feelign you might like this chapter a lil ^^  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 17**

After the events I previously mentioned, the Professor left reluctantly without a word more than goodnight after our embrace. It left me somewhat confused, but I'd almost no time to think over it more with what had happened that day.

And as the Professor had predicted, the police called within a few days. And as he'd also anticipated, and I'd planned, I pressed no charges, nor gave any statement on the events of earlier that day. I knew he (the Professor) wouldn't be so happy, but it didn't matter to me as I probably wouldn't see or talk to him for a while, or ever, as was my nature.

* * *

As foreseen, the weeks passed without the Professor. That's not to say I hadn't received word from him. I didn't take time off work - infact, had a shift the day proceeding the Mark incident - and during my day shifts I would receive numerous voice mails. Mostly from Mark, but a few were from my dear Professor. The first day after the incident was a thank you for dinner and a check up to see if I was ok. Second day was a message apologising for inappropriate actions and behaviour (ie; the hug). The third day was apologising for leaving too many voice mail. And the fourth was an apology for bad publicity, and just an apology in general. I felt bad that he seemingly felt so guilty, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to him.

Oh, and of course the Mark incident had hit headlines, again sparking theories about the Professor's 'friend'. This time I even got hassled by journalists about why I didn't press charges and what I was doing with the Professor at such a late hour. They had even gotten a snap of our 'embrace'. My god, they really follow you everywhere! The only place I had any peace was at work. Thankfully none of my work colleagues made a fuss about the Professor incident, though my seniors adviced me to take a few days off to recover from the trauma. I refused, working would take my mind off things.

One last voice mail from the Professor apologised for the news articles published about us, the magazine gossip about our raunchy night in, and persistant journalists at my door. Needless to say I did not return his call. I did not read the news anymore, averted my eyes from newspaper and magazine stands and ignored the journalists. They died down soon enough after they realised I wasn't in contact with the Professor anymore. And of course it lead to another wave of articles speculating at why we didn't stay together - typical celebrities, never stay with one person long.

Three weeks had passed and there were still a few reporters harrasing me about why we broke up. Infact I was about to brush one off on my way home from work when I realised who it was.

The blue themed clothes, the blue hat I'd seen in a few pictures, the photograph in those news articles.

"Luke! You're Luke, Professor Layton's apprentice, aren't you?" I let out in a surprised hurry.

"_Was_ his apprentice." He smiled. "And you're Azalia. You've caused quite a stir with the media, you know."

My face dropped and my cheeks went red. "I know..." But I let out a laugh when I saw Luke barely able to hold one back himself.

He extended a hand to me, "Nice to meet you."

* * *

"I still think it's pretty cool." The comment from luke lifted my mood more than it had been in the past several weeks. I'd not been myself since Mark's arrest - the bastard couldn't help himself. But though I'd had no part in his arrest this time, why did I feel so guilty?

"Well," I began, but I had to raise my voice over the noise in the cafe, "I doubt it's anything as exciting as being the Professor's apprentice. All the stories I've heard. My gosh, what a life!" I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice, even if it was quite minimal (more than half being put on).

A smile spread across the boy's face nevetheless and I wondered if he'd notice my fake enthusiasm. Well, he wasn't really a boy, a man he was, a married man only a few years younger than myself and expecting a child. "Yea, it wasn't always fun, but never a dull moment!" His expression dulled a little. "But it hasn't been the same since Flora and I left. He hasn't been the same..."

The mood had gone from somewhat cheerful to serious in a second. "So I've heard."

Neither of us said anything for a while.

"The Professor took it hard when I told him I was engaged. And then for it to be to his daughter... She may have been adopted, but anyone would've mistaken her for his own flesh and blood from the way he treated her. He was a great father, truely." He sighed, a mixed expression on his face. Sadness, regret... guilt? "At first he seemed happy for us, happier than anyone in the world, so proud. He hid his pending loneliness so well. But then he stopped travelling, then stopped solving mysteries. And eventually he stopped doing puzzles. He became antisocial, only going out when absolutely necessary - work or otherwise related." Such a grave, despaired look came across his boy-like features, but was soon replaced with relief. "But then you appeared, you've really seemed to have brought him out of it. It was the first time in a _long_ time anyone has seen the Professor so alive, so passionate again. It's the first time in a while I've seen him smile."

It didn't click at first, what Luke was insinuating. "Really?" was all I replied.

Luke took a sip of his coffee. "I have to say, the tabloids aren't in the least bit correct." He said, his eyes fixed on me. "You're not plain at all, you're very unique. There's something about you and it would seem the Professor and I are the only ones to pick up on it."

I blushed, as usual, not quite understanding. "Thank you, but I'm not sure I'm that unique."

"You caught the Professor's eye, didn't you?"

I paused, going over what he'd just said. Was the Professor interested in me? Denial blinded me, even with all that had happened. Sure, you may think from the outside looking in (and looking back on it I feel so dumb) it would sure seem he was pretty interested in me, but you forget, he's a gentleman. Atleast that's what I kept telling myself. He he's a nice guy, the media was just blowing it out of proportion! But could I really deny it any longer with Luke telling me otherise?

"No, no, no, you're not saying he..." I trailed off. "We're just friends..."

The boy, no, man, smiled. "Friends?" He shrugged. "If you say so." He finished his coffee and stood. "Well, I think I'd best take my leave now. Keep in touch." As he took my hand to shake it he passed me a piece of paper with his number on it. "Once again, pleasure meeting you." And he turned to leave, but turned back quickly before he'd taken two steps. "Seriously, think about what I said."

I watched as the young man left. I couldn't get over how yong he looked. Sure he was younger than myself, but he at such a mature age he still retained boy-like features, a slim build and a not so deep voice. No hard to see why Flora would've taken a liking to him. I smiled at the colours I'd seen them wearing in those pictures. Pink for a girl, and blue for a boy.

_"I once fancied blue too..." he told me as his eyes clouded over._

And then I was left stand in the cafe wondering what to think, and whether or not to tell Layton of my encounter.

* * *

**Thanks again! I'll hopefully have the next chapter up soon! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Just thought I'd take this oportunity to say thanks for everyone who's been reading so far and for your infinite patients! I really appreciate you're reading it and reviewing it! Anywayz, hope you're enjoying this still! Sorry, this chapter is short btw.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 18**

Did the Professor like me or not? What did Luke really mean? Was denial really clouding my head? But surely the professor wasn't the 'shy' type, was he? Surely he would've dropped some sort of hint. These thoughts plagued my head for almost two weeks. And what of the colour blue. The sight of Luke made that line come back to me.

_"I once fancied blue too..."_

The look in the Professor's eyes when he said it... Did he... Surely not... If that were so, then he couldn't possibly be interested in me...

These thoughts also filled my mind and I began to doubt myself and him. So distracted I was that I went through daily life without a care as to what others were saying, or to what was going on. Then Sylvia died.

It was a shock to us all, yet not a surprise. Her children had been taken away by local authorities. She still worked though, as if they were still there, in more denial than I had ever been in. She wasn't to get them back... So it was after a careful check of her will and multiple addressed letter sent out she left us calmly and quietly. There was one for me...

_"Dear Azalia,"_

She'd written. I could even hear her voice as a I read the note.

_"Shy, antisocial, quiet, plain. Perhaps to some you seem this way, but there are some who think and know otherwise. Modest, cautious, reserved and so unaware your true capabilities, your inner beauty and admireable strength. That's what I see. You have no idea how truely unique you really are. You're a strong, caring girl, and I've alot to thank you for."_

There were tear stains smudging the writing, I could barely make it out.

_"You just need a little belief in yourself. Don't doubt, don't deny yourself! Whether or not I'm here, please know that I do strongly believe in you, even if you can't. Perhaps it sounds funny coming from me at such a time, and perhaps hypocritical, but nevertheless I stand by what I say."_

As I read, I added two tear stains of my own.

_"I'm so sorry that this has happened, and that this will be how you hear my last words. My only regret is that I couldn't tell you goodbye personally. I'm sorry. But I don't expect your forgiveness, who could? But what I do expect is for you to believe in yourself. Please..."_

The writing had gotten increasing hard to read as her writing became more hurried. And the sign off at the end was more of a scribble than her name.

I cried for hours. If only I'd known, I could've saved her! That's what I thought. Her words, the words she left me with... How could I believe when I couldn't even save her? Even now it brings a tear to my eye. She was a good person, and the closest I had to a friend prior to meeting Professor Layton. There was a connection between us, and I felt some of me had gone too.

* * *

The funeral was slow and dull. There wasn't a cheerful soul in attendance. Sylvia was a wonderful, seemingly happy woman. Her suicide had struck everyone down. Most of us had the fews days off leading up to her funeral. I didn't, as usual.

How could I live in a world where someone so cheerful, so strong willed, so lively was so terrible sad and broken in reality? I was at a complete loss.

I didn't talk to anyone at the funeral, save to give my condolences to her children who I'd known so well. Aside from that, my eyes hardly left the ground, and not a thought of the Professor penetrated my mind.

I was the last to leave the grave yard following the burial and I, alone, made my way up to the bus stop, my feet moving slowly and heavily. It was almost dark and I could feel the gloom starting to seep into me. What was I to do?

I don't remember the trip home, my mind was so blank. The only thing I remember after that was stepping into my house and I was suddenly on the ground before blacking out.

Did I hear someone?

* * *

**ALSO! A VERY BIG thank you Emax who has flattered me with an amazing fanart which I myself haven't finished doing yet - due to my incompetence with paint/photoshop haha**

**at any rate, here is the link to the fabulous fanart! **http : / ekmaxian . deviantart . com / # / d2y5srl (there are spaces in link because otherwise it wont post it haha)

**I don't think I've yet had a description of Azalia (and if i have, someone please point it out to me .) but i think it still captures the character wonderfully!**

**Thanks again ^^**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks again for reading. Heres your chapter**

**EDIT: Changed a bit in the letter  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 19**

From what I was told, in the weeks leading up to the death of my dear friend, Professor Layton had been increasingly anxious that I didn't answer my phone or return his calls. His only relief came from spotting me in the mornings or evenings travelling to or from work. Oh! and the articles highlighting my chance meeting with Luke - and no, I obviously didn't tell him about it.

However, his relief was not to come in the weeks following the funeral. He no longer saw me attend work. Initially it was thought that he wasn't as lucky/skilled as he'd previously been at catching glimpses of me, or that perhaps I'd taken time off or quit. But panic, however, ensued when he was contacted by police for assistance in the investigation of my disappearance. Then the news began to fill with articles of a certain missing girl.

I'd not turned up for work for a week, I did not answer my phone or return phonecalls to work. I was not spotted anywhere. And upon a visit to my house by a work colleague, the house was found to be seemingly vacant. This was tried again several times and then alerts were raised. Records were checked and nothing was there about my leaving or moving. A warant was obtained and my house searched. What they found horrified the Professor.

_"Azalia Sylvan, recent partner _(again, the couple thing)_ of world famous Professor Layton, who was last seen leaving London Grave Yard after the funeral of friend and suicide victim Syvlia Tol, has been missing for 2 weeks_. _Initially it was suspected that a debilitating depression prevented the 24 year old from attending work, but upon arrival at her house, a work mate found no answer at the door. Alerts were raised and authorities searched the house._

_"It is believed that Sylvan was abducted from her home after a forced entrance and struggle after returning home late from the funeral, but no signs as to the whereabouts of her now. Police officials are still searching the house for clues that could lead to the detection of Azalia. Professor Layton has also agreed to offer his services._

_"Azalia is described as a petite woman with short, dark brown hair and is of eurasian background. Anyone with any information on the disappearance is urged to contact police."_

Anxious to find me, the Professor drove to my house straight away and burst onto the crime scene. The police recapped the situation and adviced that there were blood stains on the hall floor and walls, which were evident enough for anyone to see. After impatiently waiting through initial proceedings, he rushed through the house and through every room, lingering over the piano where he'd played for me, and touching the front doorway where he'd last seen me leaning against.

I suppose part of him couldn't believe I was gone and that it was all a charade. He searched every room in hopes that I was just in hiding. Eventually he reached my bedroom and reluctantly entered, fearing I'd step out and tell him off at any time. But reality hit and he fell to his knees and sobbed upon reaching the centre of my room. "Where are you?" He'd apparently spent a few minutes lost in grief, followed by anxiety, before composing himself again when something caught his eye. A piece of paper sticking out of a book.

Standing up he moved slowly to where this book lay and picked it up cautiously with a handkerchief (so as not to leave finger marks). The piece of paper fell out as he did so. He, with the handkerchief still in hand, picked up the paper.

_"Layton,_

_"It's been a while, has it not? You've been well I hear. Or as well as a lovesick fool can be. However, I see you've found a new playmate, but you're ever so hesitant, what, with your lingering feelings for that puppydog of yours. Or perhaps is it the fear of losing someone so dear again. You always were a greedy one. But enough drabble. I've a deal for you. Azalia's life for yours, if you can find her. Sounds fair, does it not?  
_

_"Here's the thing, though. You'll be the only one who would find this, and naturally you'll be the only one to figure out where I am. Let's keep it that way. Call on your puppydog if you must, the stupid boy, but bare in mind Azalia can only go so long without food, and can only survive so long with this Mark character. It's really hard to keep this man at bay, so better be quick - time's running out! Don't want another to die because of you."_

Two words escaped the Professor's lips. "Don Paolo."

He crumpled the paper in his hand and shoved it deep into his pocket - Azalia had _nothing_ to do with Claire - , but as he did so his eyes fell onto the content of the book as it laid open on the floor from when he dropped it. It was my diary. I can feel myself blushing at the very thought. It would happen that the one time I keep a diary that someone of interest _would _manage to accidentally see it.

Normally I'm sure the Professor, being the gentleman he is, would never even think twice about ignoring the book, however the thought that came to mind was perhaps clues might be found. Unfortunately for us both, no. But his eyes did fall one certains words of interest to him. _"Do I love him?"_

His heart pounded, his mind raced. He _had _to find me!

He left the house to the police officials and detectives as he headed home, lying to the police about not finding anything. He was then left to puzzle over the letter and my diary in private for the drive home. And upon reaching his house, he burst in and grabbed the phone, dialling a number he hadn't used in so long, but could never forget.

"Luke, my boy." The words sounded so strange now. "I need your help..."

* * *

**I hope this is getting interesting for you!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Nothing too bad happens here. not really any swearing, and no sex. but still... enjoy**

**EDIT: Ok, changed the motive slightly. thank you 'a friend' (anonymous)  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 20**

I remember waking up in a dark room with barred windows, plastered with duck tape. I knew it wasn't night though, as there was light - sunlight - trying to fight it's way into the room. Sitting up, I found all I had on was the shirt I wore to the funeral and it was unbuttoned and everything else was gone (bra and underwear too). There was a door, closed. Instinctively I sought to check it, but upon trying to stand I found my head was pounding, my jaw hurt and my body was weak. I collapsed in a heap on the floor, letting out a soft cry.

My ears pricked as I heard footsteps followed by an all-too-familiar voice and my eyes widened so much they hurt. "Finally awake, are we?" The door flew open and there stood my worst nightmare. "Look at those eyes, so full of terror. Where are you trying to go? You're in a locked room you silly girl. And it seems you didn't even notice your leash."

A chain... There was a chain around my neck that kept me to the bed. It was long enough (I later discovered) for me to almost reach the door, but not quite. Panic began to flood my mind as I scrambled back onto the bed, clutching at the sheet as Mark slowly stepped forward.

He was at the bed now, leaning down to touch my face. "Now, now, I wont hurt you. I never hurt you."

I whimpered as I tried to avoid his hand but he grasped my neck with it and brought his other hand to touch my other cheek, but slapped me instead when I tried to turn my face away.

"Bitch! You can't avoid it! I'm just touching you!" He then pushed me down into the bed, dragging a dirty hand up my leg to touch inbetween where my underwear would've protected, me somewhat.

"Mark..." I gasped. "Don't, please..." I could feel tears falling down my cheeks.

"Mark!" Came another familiar voice. "We made an agreement!" That smell of putrifying bodies filled the room, followed by that demonic man who had saved me before.

I guess I should have thanked him again really, in a sense. That's twice he'd saved me from the ineffitable end that would have come if he'd come a minute later.

Mark growled, staring down at my body.

I heard a click - a gun cocking. "Out!" He demanded of Mark. "Or you wont have a chance to even look at her a second time!"

Reluctantly Mark stood and left the room, but not without another grope between my legs. "It's just a matter of time." He hissed.

I sat up quickly and backed against the wall that the bed was against and hugged myself.

The demonic man approached the bed. "Azalia." He said, his voice sending a chill down my spine. "Don't be afraid, no, not of me. Not yet."

"Who are you? Why is Mark here?" I asked, barely able to steady my quivering voice.

A smirk stretched across his sharp features. "I was wondering if you would ask." He paused a moment. "Ah, I can see now why Layton enjoys your company. Such a pretty girl, just like a _flower_."

"Professor Layton?"

"JUST LAYTON!" He snapped. "But yes, which brings me to what I wanted to chat with you about." He said. You're probably wondering where you are and why you're here." I nodded in reply when he paused. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Don Paolo."

I went over the name in my head. It sounded so familiar, but why? Then it clicked. "Don Paolo! You tried to kill Professor Layton!"

"JUST LAYTON! That wretched man stole my title! I should have been Professor Paolo! Everyone would have adored me! But she loved him. His looks, his charm, his dress! I was just as smart! But I wasn't as handsome as he was, I wasn't as charming as he was, I wasn't HIM!" He was pacing the room now, his arms hitting the air as he spoke. "That do-gooder _caught_ me doing my research! 'Taboo' they called it. I was kicked out, banished from the academic world!" He then approached me, looming over me with some hint of lust in his eyes, "I should just take you, so he can't have you. He had his chance, one he stole from me." Then grabbing me by my shirt and lifting me to my feet he snarled, "Or perhaps I should just kill you now!"

The smell from his mouth was puitred; teeth all decaying, oily skin, the scent of tobacco and marajuana wafting out. I felt sorry for him, I still do, but I was so scared all the same. He held the gun (which had been replaced in his coat previously) to my stomache hard. "Layton's sweet flower, crumpled at the hands of Don Paolo! I will make him suffer!" He then dropped me back into the bed. "Patience, I can wait..." He paced the room a few more times. "Layton needs to come find you, before my patience wears thin, and before Mark gets out of control, as I'm sure you're all too familiar with." He laughed softly and left the room. "You're life or his, which will he choose?"

I curled up and sobbed into my knees, the whole experience overwhelming. Professor Layton had to stay away! But would he come to save me? Of course! And then a thought struck me and my heart ached. He would save me, not because of his feelings for me, but because that's what a gentlemen does...

* * *

**I still haven't finished Layton 3 yet, so not entirely sure of the details, but hoping i've got it ok. I'm really just grasping at air here haha**


	21. Chapter 21

**WARNING! Graphic chapter! Seriously, it is, and it is unpleasant... Well, I think it would be to most. Got a friend to read it first and she said it was disturbing, so MAJOR WARNING!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 21**

In that cramped, dark, dirty room it was hard to keep time. No watch, no clock, no writing material. The only way to keep track was to count the nights. But sometimes I'd sleep from dusk to dusk, dawn to dawn, complicating things, or I'd just simply lose count. But it had been somewhere between 2 to 3 weeks when Don Paolo came into my room with news. By then I'd grown quite use to his smell, and seeeing as I'd apparently not showered, literally, in weeks I was sure I was fairing no better. I was beginning to hope they wouldn't find me, the police, the Professor, being in the state that I was in. I was also use to the threats and abuse they poured on me almost everyday, I almost didn't care.

That day, however, was different.

"Azalia, my dear _girl_." He eyed me suspiciously, then turned away harshly. "Pretty girl, just a pretty girl. A stupid pretty girl. Layton is a fool for choosing you. What do you have? NOTHING!" I shook as he yelled that last word. "You are _not_ her, you're a stupid little girl with no dignity! How could he choose _you_?" He turned back to me, approaching slowly as he reached out a hand to my face. He laughed as I flinched away from his touched before continuing with a different tone. "Layton is close now. It wont be long. But he certainly took his time. My patience is starting to wear thin, and Mark cannot stop thinking about you." Was that supposed to be romantic? He waited and soon became aggressive when I didn't react. "Not excited?"

"No. The end for either or both of us is coming soon. Nothing to be excited about." I looked up with a face of indifference. "Hoping you could put me down? Raise my hopes and crush them? They've already been crushed." I was careful not to put any emotion into my voice. It was a lie, I still had a vague hope, and dread. I _knew _Layton would find me, somehow. But that wasn't what I was referring to.

"You stupid girl!" he growled as he grabbed my hair and pulled me off the bed before pushing me to the ground. "Did you ever think you could possibly replace her? Is this all Claire was worth to him? A pitiful _girl_ with no morals, no dignity, no value..." He had grabbed my hair again, lifting me to my feet as he spoke before letting me drop back down. He then paced in his usual way. "Not long now, not long now." He soon left.

Remaining on the ground, my mind processed what had been said. I was left with a new hope, a more solid hope - Layton was making progress. The light had become more than just a small star peering through dark clouds on a black night. But what would it be worth, knowing that what Don Paolo had said was true? Layton would see it soon enough. But there was still something, still that sense of dread in me and I shivered.

* * *

About another week passed and I found myself too tired to sit up, too tired to even think straight. And sleep was becoming more and more illusive (ironically making it easier to count the days). Don Paolo was becoming increasingly frustrated that I'd not cheered up at the knowledge of the Professor's progess, so I received no food and what little food I did receive was off (I threw up so much I was better off not eating). But really, I didn't mind - it kept Mark away from me a few days. Well, that is, until I heard a conversation outside the door to my prison.

"The doctor is taking his sweet fucking time! If he still comes atleast she'll still be alive for him to see. But she's _mine_ and I want her _now!_" Came Mark's angry voice.

There was a loud thud and in came Mark, a crazed look in his eye that I'd not seen since I was with him in Australia. I saw Don Paolo just standing there, watching. He didn't make a move to even threaten the lustful man. But then again, why should he? Before I knew it Mark was ontop of me, pulling and wripping the shirt that I'd kept on in an attempt to try give me some sort of dignity. I feebly tried to push him away.

"Come now, Lia." His accent was stronger than usual - he'd been drinking, I could now smell it. "I've waited so long."

"Mark, please..." I begged, tears beginning to form, trickling down my face. I shot a begging look at Don Paolo who only watched with a mix of lust and hate in his eyes.

His hands were all over me - all over me! My breasts, my hips and finally between my legs, 'testing the waters' as he called it. "So wet..." He growled against my neck, trailing his lips up to mine and pressing against them hard.

Far from it, I wasn't wet and I knew it. Dehydration and fear. His fingers were so rough, I cried out in pain when he inserted them. He then pulled them out and shoved the dirtied fingers into my mouth. I spat and spluttered, thrashing as much as I could to try get him off me. He hit me and I paused for one critical moment. He pushed me off the bed and forced me into a kneeling position as he sat on the edge infront of me, his pants pulled down. My eyes widened and I tried to crawl away, but he had my head in his hands. He was already stronger than me, but in my weakened state it was infinitely more pronounced.

He forced himself into my mouth and all I could do was close my eyes and give in. I gagged alot, choking on a mixture of his precum and my spit. I dared not let my teeth touch him, knowing what would happen if I did. But soon he stood, relieving my mouth of the foul tasting object. As I splat into the bed to rid my mouth of the aftertaste, he came behind me. I panicked again and tried to stand, but it was too late. My hips were suddenly grasped and I was forced back down onto my knees, my face being forced into the pillow still on the bed, my right ear scraping against the wall which the head of the bed was against. I felt an all too familiar hand grab the back of my neck, forcing my face further into the pillow, followed by two knees on the back of my own to keep me in that bent over position. Then came that all too familiar sharp pain.

I tried to scream but could hardly take in any air. I struggled, but with every jerk I made I was pushed further into the bed, floor and pillow. After a short while I just tense, hoping it would be enough to rid me of the pain. But not only did it serve to make it worse, it also drained my energy and I became dizzy due to it and the lack of oxygen and I could feel my body giving up. I blacked out.

* * *

**Sorry, not the greastest chapter, but you kinda get an idea of what Azalia has been through previously.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry, it's a short filler chapter... VERY short...  
**

**

* * *

**

_"No wonder he has you around. There's no forgetting the past for him, nor for myself. Claire was an angel. You are nothing to her, nothing. But I can see how he may have been reminded. He even wore a different hat for you. How pathetic! That hat should've been mine! Oh, my Claire... Why? This girl has no morals, no respect, no dignity. How could Layton ever fall for someone so low. My dear Claire..."_

_Foot steps pacing back and forth..._

_"Layton is a fool! Layton, that bastard! He takes you from me, then replaces you with a boy and pathetic girl. Of course he'll come for her. He can't stand not having what I have. He can't stand me having what he did."_

_Pounding, yelling, sobbing..._

_"It's never fair for people like me. Layton people have it all and give nothing. And you... I can't believe I must waste my time so..."_

_A door slamming, silence again..._

_

* * *

_

Pain travelled through my body with every movement, it took several minutes before I became more accustomed to the pain and was able to pick myself up off the floor and drag myself into the bed. My mouth and face were sticky - I didn't want to consider what he'd done, and what more he could've done. I could feel dried blood from between my legs trailing down my inner thighs, down my calves to my feet, and my throat stung and ached like crazy, I struggled to breathe.

I cried, of course, hoping in vain for my dear Professor to burst through the door and save me, but all who would ever open that door would be that devillish man, or Mark, and I hoped to god it would be the former. But after a while I was sort of hoping he wouldn't come, the Professor, recalling that monologue I'd heard in my sleep. Whoever this Claire was, it was obvious now that I had nothing compared to her, and that I was only a temporary substitute. Besides this, I couldn't bare the thought of him seeing me like this. Whatever regard he held for me would surely disappear after one look. A bit painful, but that's what I deserved for expecting anything more.

And after that I just didn't think.

I curled up in a feeble attempt to stop the pain and to try keep warm since my sheet wasn't to be easily found. Exhausted from the effort, and shivering from the cold and stress, I couldn't keep sleep from coming. I didn't care anymore. I think I'd lost hope for rescue, and for Professor Layton...


	23. Chapter 23

**Terribly sorry all! I've been so busy, was hoping to update about a over week ago or something but I was on practice until last week and I've been working, so unfortunately minimalised my time for rest and posting the next chapter! As for why I haven't this past week, I've been very sick and have just come out of hospital! I'm feel ALOT better but am still in recovery, which is good for you because I posted this chapter and I can post another soon.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 23**

Night after night the devilish man came in, verbally abusing me, occasionally hitting me. I just remained as I was on the bed, staring vacantly at the ceilling, only letting tears fall in the dead of night when I was sure I would be alone.

And every few nights Mark came in, did his business and left. Again, only letting the tears come when I was alone.

If tears could stain I would have lines running down my face.

Would I be trapped there until Don Paolo finally lost his patience and ended my life? I'd lost hope for Layton finding me, and rather hoped he'd given up. And I could hardly wait for the day I would cease to be.

* * *

"Get up!"

I woke with a start and was dragged out of the bed by the chain around my neck by the devillish man.

"What? What's happening?" I managed to get out.

He ignored me and pulled me out of the room. I could barely stand and kept tripping which only served to irritate him further. There was gunfire outside the house and Mark's booming voice could be heard.

"Professor Layton..." I whispered. _'He came for me...'_

I followed him (barely), this man, through what appeared to be an abandoned house (go figure) filled with dust and cobwebs. We stopped as we reached a door leading to the outside. He pulled out a gun. "Shut up or I'll shoot you and whoever gets in my way!" He pushed the barrel into the small of my back as he pushed me infront of him. "Now open the door."

I hesitated, realising I still had no clothes on.

There was a loud crash as a door was seemingly kicked down followed by a voice I thought I recognised calling out to whoever was in the house, but the thought was quickly wiped from my mind. "Do it!" He yelled, striking me over the head quickly with the butt of the gun before holding it back in it's previous position. I immediately did as he said.

The glaring light blinded me and all I could do was let the man lead me, or rather push me. I tried to cover my body with my small hands but to no avail. Through my squinting I could see a strange flying machine, old and run down. We were nearly there, approaching the door at the side when suddenly-

"Paul!" It was Layton.

"Paul is dead, Layton! Don Paolo has come to take his place. Now it's you or the girl!" yelled Don Paolo. He turned us around and I saw the shocked look on the Professor's face. I had no doubt of the sight I must have been. Blood and bruises everywhere, emaciation obvious, my body shaking from the strain of standing. I could barely hold back my tears at the thought, and I could see the Professor was having the same trouble as I was.

Professor Layton paused briefly before assuming a passive stance. "Please let her go..." The defeat and pain in his voice was almost unbareable.

"You took the only person I loved and destroyed her, destroyed _me_! And now I'm destroying your precious juvenile lover!" Don Paolo had put his arm around my waist as he said this and the gun was now against my head.

"It wasn't his fault... Whatever happened-" I pleaded.

"Shut up!" The gun now pressing painfully against my temple.

"No, Azalia!" Panic flooded the Professor's eyes as they darted back to Don Paolo's, "Please, this wont bring back Claire!"

As the Professor said that name Don Paolo turned the gun on him. My chance!

I grabbed his arm and pulled the gun back. In that split second a shot was fired, someone was hit, someone struck Don Paolo and for a second I was finally free.

I saw a brief struggle between the two men, then someone in blue came dashing towards me. Some police came running onto the scene. I blacked out for a moment, my body giving way with a mixture of dizziness and exhaustion. I felt myself falling, and then two warm, strong arms were around me and I was being lowered. I opened my eyes to find the face of the person who had caught me staring down at me, eyes wide. All I could do was stare back as the boy-like man pushed a hand into my stomach and I cried out in pain.

The painful pressure on my waist brought me back to reality. I struggled against the hand, and against the man. Soon another man approached, someone familiar and I panicked even more. "Don't look at me!" I remember screaming over and over, arms failing about blindly as he crouched down. Placing his jacket over me, he pulled me into his arms as the first man allowed the other to take over his job while he went to consult the police and obtain medical help. It took several minutes before I calmed down.

"Are you alright, Azalia?" came his voice finally, so shakey and barely audible with emotion.

"I am now." I smiled, not entirely with it, as I looked at him. His eyes were red and cheeks tear streaked. His lips trembled as he tried to return my smile. "That's not very becoming of a gentleman, my dear Professor."

His arms shook as he held me tighter. "I'm so sorry!" He buried his face into my shoulder.

"No worries. You saved me. I think it makes it even. Don't cry, Professor..." I wasn't entirely sure what I was talking about at the time, delirium starting to take over. I tried to let out a laugh but found my body hurt too much and my emotions were too mixed. Instead I could feel equally painful sobs starting up and I was soon crying with him. "Don't cry..."


	24. Chapter 24

**As I said, I posted this one quickly heh ^^ hope you like this one**

**ADDED NOTE: If you want that next chapter, more of you had better review! please... unless only 3 of you are still reading this .  
**

**

* * *

**  
**Chapter 24**

Almost 2 months, and 4 operations later and I was up and almost running - well, packing actually. And the Professor was there with me every step of the way, even though I insisted he need not keep me company before and after every procedure, nor did he need to visit me almost everyday - not that I minded really. Meanwhile, Don Paolo had been sentenced to life in prison, but vanished before he could serve, and Mark deported to be punished in Australia for these offenses and others back home. And I was to return home too, of my own accord.

Ah, I remember all too well that look, that sad look, on the Professor's face as I said to him, "I have to return. I have responsibilities and a life that I left behind, broken. I need to go back and fix things before I can really move on. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course, my dear." He then smiled, "I'm glad you're going to fix things. I suppose I have things I need to fix too."

I knew what he was referring to. There was no need to ask.

"Oh, Professor-"

"Hershel!"

I sighed. "I'll call you whatever I damn well please, " I laughed at the look of shock on his face, "Hershel." His face then softened and I started again, "Hershel. I have a favour to ask."

"Yes?"

"My piano, remember it?" I waited for his confirming nod and warm smile, "I can't take it back with me. I've no place for it, nor the money to have it transported back unfortunately. So..." _Just ask him!_ A moment passed before the Professor's hand gestures encouraged me to continue. "So, I would like you to have it. Please." I waited patiently for his reply, aware of the implications of giving this man my grandfather's heirloom piano.

"My dear, I couldn't possibly- I don't think-"

"Yes! Don't think! Just say 'yes'!" I interjected, clasping his hands. Pause... I blushed, he blushed, but neither of us moved. Despite my burning face I maintained my stare, becoming aware of how painfully close our faces were now. "Professor? Hershel?"

There was a slight tug at one side of his mouth, then the other, and finally his lips stretched further into a smile. "I suppose I have no choice. After all, a gentleman never refuses the request of a lady."

To that I did blush more, and was taken aback, just a little dumbfounded. But then realisation hit - he'd agreed! I left out a breath I'd desperately held and quickly released his hands. "Good! I'm glad I didn't have to start with embarrasing attempts at puppy-dog eyes. " I beamed and stepped back.

For a moment I could've sworn his hands had tried to follow mine as they released his but instead he shuffled forward a little as I'd stepped away. The look on his face was serious now. "Azalia, don't think I don't understand the gesture. I am truely honoured." Again, a pause, so tension filled! He sighed, "So when do you leave?" His expression was soft again, that sadness starting to surface.

"If I tell you, you gotta promise to see me off!" I clasped my hands childishly and batted my eyelashes as well as I could. If I'd been anymore childish I would've jumped up and down and then clung to his legs begging him to pinky promise.

"Of course, I would've have anyway. You know me better than that."

"Tomorrow..." I muttered.

The Professor's face went blank as the word went through his head. Then shock, "What?"

"Tomorrow, 10 o'clock is my flight." I lowered my eyes, unable to look at him.

He face conveyed a mixture of emotions, each trying to surface. Then his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a fine line. "Tomorrow? Why so soon?"

Eyes still averted I responded, "It's been booked since Mark got deported."

"No, why did you tell me so soon to your departure? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His body language and tone of voice indicated his longing to wrap his arms around me possessively, protectively in an attempt to keep me from leaving, but he remained as he was. I didn't dare look up and risk seeing his pain.

I took a deep breath, blinking back my tears. "It... It w-would've been too hard. I almost d-didn't tell you at all..." When he said nothing, I regretted that I'd come to see him and tell him at all. "I-I... gotta go. I've already organised for the movers to bring to piano to your house the day after tomorrow." I turned away, ignoring his call after me. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I let them flow freely as I reached the threshold that would take me back from a world with the Professor to a reality without him. But as I went to take the step across it a hand held me back softly by the shoulder. "You'll forget about me quickly. I'm no Claire..." Oh god! Why did I ever let that slip?

I let him turn me around and was expecting to see a disappointed look on his face, but there was, instead, guilt and sincerity. "I don't know what Don Paolo had told you, but I let go of her a long time ago. I miss her, I wont lie to you, but I'm not looking for another Claire." His hands were now cupping my face.

Lifting a hand to one of his I replied, "My apologies for ever thinking such a thing." I pulled his hands away and turned again. "Either way, you'll soon forget."

"Azalia, won't you atleast stay for dinner?" His voice was extremely controlled, but I could tell he was struggling to hold back tears as well.

Unconcious of what I was doing I turned back and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face into his chest. "I'm sorry, Professor."

I felt his arms closing around me and he made no attempt to correct my address of him this time.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Professor Layton said as he accompanied me to the flight gate (don't ask how he was able to, it's the Professor, he has powers and charisma!). The night before we'd had an emotional and awkward dinner at a nice restaurant together (no, not that italian one...), and what a sight we must have been, before he dropped me home and offered to drive me to the airport the next morning. Luke and Flora had farewelled me before I left the house as they had a doctor's appointment to keep. It was truely sweet of them to make the time to come see me regardless. And they promised to send me photos of the ultrasound and of the baby when it arrived.

I nodded with a smile, "Yes, I will be now."

We stood in silence for a while, unsure of what to say and not wanting to part.

"Well, that's my flight." I said as an announcement came over the speakers to indicate boarding had commenced, half an hour before the flight would leave. "Just half an hour to go. I almost can't believe I'll be going home in half an hour." As I turned to the Professor I could see he was deep in thought, unhappy thought.

"Mm, just imagine..."

"Oh, Hershel, don't look at me like that. We already talked last night. You are just making it harder for me." I tried to smile as I touched his arm lightly.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" He asked softly, an almost desperate plea in his eyes. It nearly broke my heart.

"I'd much rather stay here, believe me! And perhaps some day I'll be back, don't forget I've got a grave to pay respects to," Ok, perhaps not one of my more graceful moments, "and I've got a piano to come back and visit! But I've got to go now." I joked, but my face turned serious when he didn't lighten up. "Do you really want this to be how I remember you?"

"You don't expect me to pretend that I wont miss you?" He couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "But I do suppose you're right. "

"No, I _am_ right." I poked out my tongue a little before turning towards the gate. "Anyway, I'll see you around soon, perhaps."

I saw him nod from the corner of my eye. "Hopefully."

I sighed. "Just no changing your attitude, eh? Though I can't say I blame you..." Another Claire reference. I'm such a smooth talker. "Oh, and one last thing." I turned back to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, feeling his arms hesitantly come around me. "Thank you." I whispered, my lips almost against his ear, before pressing them briefly against his cheek. I then released him and grabbed my bags, briefly spotting a tear threatening to streak one of his cheeks, and hurried off to the gate without a second look, knowing the sight would stop me in my tracks. In half an hour I would be heading home, and I would not be turning back.

**The end**


	26. Epilogue

**Surprise! Love putting epilogues, because people are like "Awe, all gone." and then "OMFG!" teehee. Honestly, I had a huge mental debate as to whether the last chapter should've been the epilogue or whether this one should've been written for the purpose. I didn't actually think about it until after I wrote it so I decided that since i had written it i may as well use it.**

**Oh, and CrazyPurpleDancingFreak, this was what my dilema was about!  
**

**

* * *

**

_Dear Azalia,_

_Are you really coming back? Somehow I doubt it, no offense, but your last letter seemed to convince me so. It's a real shame. I was really looking forward to seeing you again, but I suppose if I want to see you I'll just have to convince Luke to take us to you! At any rate, I've taken the time to write to you to ask you to come back. We all miss you, especially... you know who... And I'm sure you'd love to meet little Julie! And I suppose I should remind you of that piano you need to visit. It's being well taken care of, I assure you, but I'm sure you miss it - after all, it was your grandfather's. __And there's Sylvia..._

_But I suppose you're doubtful. I have no idea why you would ever be doubtful, he'll welcome you back with open arms - we all will, should you come! He misses you dearly! You know, he doesn't wear his tophat anymore, except when making a public appearance of some sort.  
_

_At any rate, I'm hoping my few words will change your mind about returning. I'll patiently await your reply, or action, whichever comes first._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Flora Triton.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Epilogue**

The gravestone was clean**, **obviously dusted often, and there were flowers planted at the base that were well taken care of. I also was a bit surprised at the small, neat azalea bush that was starting to over grow next to the it. I can still remember the feel of the words on the stone under my fingers, "Here lies Sylvia Tol, Devoted Mother and Generous Friend. She will be dearly missed. May she rest in peace." No fading of the letters yet, the cut still sharp and crisp. I'm a little confused, my mind a little muddled. I'm finding it hard to clear my head and pay attention to the passing buses as I wait at the stop.

"Who keeps this grave so clean, sir?" I had asked the graveyard worker.

"A man, I'm not sure his name, but his face is so familiar. Perhaps I've seen him around so much it's stuck in my head, what with him visiting every week. You'd think after almost 4 years I'd strike a conversation with him, or atleast ask his name. But I assume that he's the poor lady's husband." He had replied as he scratched the back of his head. "I always thought him a bit peculiar, but atleast he doesn't wear that tophat anymore. Not that I've seen him around this past month or so. Didn't feel right so I decided to atleast water the plants for him."

I paused. "And he planted the flowers?"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am, and that bush. And before he leaves he picks one of the flowers from the bush and placees it infront of the grave."

"Oh, I see." Was all I could get out as my mind became crowded with thoughts and possibilities. I said my thanks and he said his goodbyes and I left the graveyard after a few soft words to Sylvia.

I hadn't taken notice of Flora's words, I was sure she was making it up. Her more recent letters stated such nonsense about his missing me. I'm so confused! He had never indicated feelings towards me. He'd had a whole year or so with me, he saved my life, I left England and he'd never said anything... Perhaps it was for that reason that I really left. But what of the azalea bush, and Sylvia's grave? But he's stopped coming... Bus is here...

Taking a seat on the bus I'm anxious about seeing the dear Professor again. It's been 3, almost 4 years since I'd left England, and shamefully we'd lost contact for the last 2. I've been very busy sorting my life back out. I'm no longer a general nurse, I mean what hospital wants to hire me after what I'd been through, and after that huge court case? I was under therapy for about 2 years which started the day I got back to Australia, despite how ok I seemed when I left England and Professor Layton. But I'm fine, and I even started being a survivor speaker and mentor for other rape victims, as corny as that sounds. But I don't just do volunteer work, where would I get money from? I'm a nurse in a women's health ward specialising in, surprise surprise, abuse victims. It's a hard job, believe me, but it's worth every moment. I just wish I didn't feel so goddamn guilty taking indefinite unpaid leave.

And what of the Professor anyway? Still working, part-time now at the Gressenheller university once again. I remember how much my cheeks hurt from smiling as I read the letter he'd sent me regarding this. And he was travelling again, this time without his faithful apprentice, and while it was a little lonely and not as comfortable as when he'd had that little boy to help with his daily routine, he was enjoying it. Of course there was Remmy, and I admit I had a tinge of jealousy the first time she went on an adventure with him, but it was not often she travelled with him. So yea, he was gradually coming back, that Professor I'd heard so much about in the papers and in gossip. Was he still the same now that he had recovered from his depression? Suppose it's another thing I'd just have to wait to see.

And yes, I am back in England - London to be precise. Hence why I'm on a bus worrying about meeting the Professor again. Like I was saying, we lost contact for the last 2 years. Things seemed easier after we lost contact, or rather when I stopped writing to him. And I'd not spoken properly to Luke or Flora for even longer. Which reminds me, the dear Professor has had the honour of becoming a Grandfather, soon to become one again I hear too - "a great honour indeed" he had written many many times in a letter once. I got the occasional letter from Flora updating on how Julie was doing (their baby daughter and Layton's granddaughter) and to, more recently, inform me of a number 2 on the way, which I'd hinted at just a moment ago. I should definitely pay them a visit within the week.

My heart's pounding as the bus passes through these vaguely familiar streets. What will he think? Does he still consider me a friend? I'm doubting it, not since I stopped writing to him. Has he forgotten about me? Probably... Probably forgotten about me, remembering the woman he'd loved with every touch of his prized tophat - what was her name? Claire? But what of Sylvia's grave? Yes, the unattended grave of Sylvia Tol... I suppose I just answered my own incomplete question. Well, even if the Professor's not all that fond of me, I still need to visit my piano. My grandfather's piano. Surely he'll remember that the piano in his sitting room didn't just materialise there! Perhaps I should take it back home with me, I'm sure it has out stayed it's welcome. Speaking of welcomes, perhaps turning up without warning wouldn't be too much of a good idea after all...

Damn seats can be so uncomfortable when your nervous. I keep shifting and people are staring at me, they must think I'm mad or something. Or is it that they still remember...

Shaking my head of the thought I realise just where I am... "Oh, stop here! I'm terribly sorry! Thank you so much!" I blurt out as I dash off the bus.

Just a street before I reach the Professor's house. My legs are shaking so badly, my heart pounding up in my throat, my hands trembling as I re-adjust the bag on my shoulder. And of course I pause half a street away to straighten my shirt and tidy my hair. Why? Who knows? It'll just get crumpled somehow while I'm walking the few meters.

Oh gosh... My legs are like lead as I reach the threshold which I crossed 4 yrs ago to leave this wonderful world. Am I afraid to go back? Am I afraid I'll be rejected? The step is finally taken as I lean forward and nearly fall.

So I'm walking now, so slowly, so cautiously... As I reach the door I can hear something - music. Piano music. I recognise it. It's that beautiful song the Professor played at my house when he was over for dinner so long ago - well, it seems so long ago anyway. I lean against the door with a thump, my head swimming with the song and with the realisation of what I'm about to do. How can I go through with this? Ok, I'm leaving! Wait, what happened to the music? Suddenly I'm falling back, but I catch my footing in time to stop me from falling, but I wasn't fast enough to stop myself from falling into someone. Someone tall, strong, and dressed in brown.

"Oh my..." I hear as I turn and look up to find a familiar, shocked face. His arms are frozen half around me, half pulling away.

"Taking good care of it I hear, Professor..." I let out softly.

A blush is spreading across his cheeks, but he says nothing.

I think I'll take the silence as a queue to leave, "I'm sorry." And I stand to leave.

Then just as softly as I'd addressed him, "Please, call me Hershel, Azalia." His arms close around me and I'm against him. "Welcome back, my dear."

* * *

**Thanks to all of you for reading! I really appreciated you favourites, alerts and reviews! Hope you liked it! and if you love me, you'll ALL review this epilogue coz i posted it especially for you guys! ok, half for you guys and half for me rofl. and even spent AGES rewriting things and stuff to see if i could improve and such! (it's 3 times longer than it was before for one)  
**

**Even though initially it was a story purely for me to post up for all, it sorta became about people reading it too haha**

**So, a special thanks to all who have been reading and reviewed!**

**And also special thanks to** _CrazyPurpleDancingFreak_ **for conversing with me throughout this process**!

**Oh yes, and** _Emax_ **for that amazingly wonderful ficart that flattered me so much! LOVE IT! here's that link again (just take out the spaces between!) **

http : / / ekmaxian . deviantart . com / art / quot-Layton-in-Love-quot-178309857

**And of course thanks to those who (even though you didn't review :P) favourited and alerted the story (because it means there's a likely chance you're still reading it haha)**

**P.S... no-one reviewed chapter 5 . hahaha**

**That's all, for real this time!  
**


End file.
